No Fear
by Movienut401
Summary: A genetic abnormality allows a teenager to survive Samara Morgan's curse after he's tricked into watching the killer videotape. But will it be enough to help him save someone close to him?
1. Seven Days

FOREWORD:

This story is based on characters and situations in The Ring, written by Ehren Kruger and produced by Dreamworks Pictures. For placement in the series, this story takes place after the events in The Ring, and before the events in Rings.

If you have not done so, I highly recommend watching these two excellent films before reading this story, as sort of a primer to the events going on here.

I would also recommend that you suspend your disbelief in regards to our protagonist until the end of part 4; all will be explained then.

Part 1 (of 4): Seven Days

-----

Tommy Rusk stood outside the doors to the high school, nervously checking his watch. It was 3:00 in the afternoon on a Friday. Sean was supposed to be done with the chemistry lab fifteen minutes ago.

"Come on, man," he muttered to himself, "who the hell stays for extra credit on a Friday?"

It had been almost six days to the minute since he watched the tape. That damn tape. Like a collaboration between Trent Reznor and Salvador Dali. Tommy was part of a circle of students who would watch the tape, record on paper and video all the stuff they experienced afterward, then get someone else in the circle to watch a copy, always before seven days had passed. Rumor was, if you didn't, you died a nasty death. Such groups were popping up all over the country, but no one went all the way to day seven. No one wanted to tempt fate.

Until Brian threw a wrench into the works. Tommy thought back to that conversation two days earlier as he waited for Sean….

"What do you mean Bill ain't gonna watch the tape?" Tommy had asked Brian.

Brian Davidson leaned back in his chair in the rec room of his house that the circle used to pass along their experiences. "I mean, he's not going to watch it. Simple," he answered.

Tommy stared in disbelief. "What the hell is this?" he shouted.

Brian took a sip of a can of soda. "No one's ever seen a day seven. I want our group to be the first; to make history. Just so happened that you got tagged 'it'. Nothing personal, man."

"My ass it's not personal! I don't want to die!" Tommy's face was beet red..

"No one knows for sure that's what happens," Vanessa, the lone girl of the group said calmly. "Think about it; you're gonna be a pioneer."

"Bullshit!" Tommy was nearly apoplectic now. "You want a day seven, why does it have to be me? Why not someone outside of our group? A new set of eyes?"

Brian thought for a moment and leaned forward in his chair. "I've got no problem with that, but it's up to you to find someone. It's your ass. Not ours."

Tommy was up half that night racking his brain, trying to think of who he could spring the tape on, and the supposed curse.

Suddenly, it came to him in a heartbeat. "Sean," he said aloud. "Sean'd be perfect."

Sean Lewis was in Tommy's algebra class; a new student who had come to town that past February. He didn't cause anyone any problems, but even now, two months later, he never really had been able to fit in yet. There was nothing overly remarkable about him, he was kind of an average Joe, but there was still something about him, he wasn't a nerd or a geek or anything, but just had some weird vibe; nothing really seemed to bother him. He never seemed nervous about anything. The fact that he was still a relative outsider made Tommy realize he was a good choice in case the myth was true.

The next day, Tommy caught Sean on the way to lunch. "Hey man, you got a minute?"

"Sure," Sean said. "What's up?"

"You in the mood for a funky trip?"

Sean looked puzzled. "You don't seem like the junkie type."

"No, no, I don't mean that kind of trip," Tommy answered. "Look, my friends and I meet a few times a week over at Brian's house—you know Brian Davidson? We have this tape that has these real crazy assimages on it; like a Marilyn Manson video, only weirder. But this tape does something to you man, like a hypnosis thing, or something, but you start seeing these really crazy visions. We keep track of what we see and pass it around."

Sean just stared at Tommy. "Uh-huh…," he answered.

"Anyways," Tommy went on, trying to hide his desperation, "we're looking for a fresh set of eyes, since we've passed it around the circle a few times, and I thought you could be our guy."

Sean looked skeptical. "Why me?" he asked.

Tommy tried to think fast. "Why not you?" he replied. "Look," he continued, "I was a new student at a school once, and I know how hard it is to try to fit in. You haven't quite done that yet, have you?"

Sean gave a shrug. "Well, not really," he said, somewhat embarrassed.

Amazed at how easy it was to bullshit when your ass was on the chopping block, Tommy went on, "This might be a break for you, dude. You seem pretty cool; you start hanging with us, word will get around."

Sean thought for a bit, then nodded. "Ah, sure. Why not?"

Tommy could have cut a caper around the hallway. "Great! Meet me outside after school tomorrow."

"It'll have to be a bit later," Sean said, "I'm making up a chem lab after school."

"On a Friday?" Tommy asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, well, I should be done about quarter of three, we can head to Brian's then. Cool?"

Tommy almost gave a sigh of relief when he realized Sean wasn't backing out. "Cool," he replied.

That was yesterday. Now, it was pushing 3:10. Tommy was almost about to panic, when he saw Sean coming out the door. "Sorry about that," he said. "That experiment took a bit longer than I planned." Sean then got a good look at Tommy. "You okay, man? It's not that hot out, but you're sweating rivets."

Tommy realized that he was. "Yeah," he tried to shrug it off. "Must have been the ham I had at lunch. That lovely school food, you know? I'll be okay. Let's just go, Brian's waiting."

"No problem," Sean said. "My car's over here. Did you bike it here?"

"No, I walked."

They went over to a white Toyota Celica, a two-door that was most definitely used. No body rot, or anything, but everything about it practically shouted old.

Tommy whistled. "Your parents' car?"

Sean smiled. "Not hardly. I bought it used not long after I moved here. Pretty cheap, too; my father just made sure that it was in good shape. It's an '86."

"Oh, man," Tommy said as they got in. "It's a regular Methuselah."

Sean laughed as he started the engine. "Nah, it's a Toyota. They last forever if you take care of them."

They made small talk on the way to Brian's. Sean told how his family had moved to Seattle so that his father, an ER doctor, could take advantage of what seemed like a good salary opportunity. The drawback was it made for some crazy working hours; his dad was at work a lot, leaving Sean to help take care of his ten year old sister, Janet. Their mother had passed away a few years earlier from breast cancer that had metastasized throughout her body before anyone could catch it.

Ten minutes later, they had pulled up to Brian's house. As they walked to the door, Tommy clapped Sean on the shoulder, feigning friendship. "This is going to be an experience you won't soon forget," he said smiling. Truth was, he could give a frig about Sean, just so long as he watched the tape, and saved Tommy's ass.

Sean gave a small smile. "We'll see," he said as he rang the doorbell.

Brian answered. "Glad you two made it. We were wondering if you changed your mind, Sean."

Sean shook his head. "No, just taking care of some business. Tommy seems hot to trot that I check this video out, and I don't want to disappoint him."

Brian threw his head back and laughed, making Tommy flush with embarrassment. "No, he would be real disappointed, that's for sure. Come on in."

The three went down a staircase that led to the Davidson living room. There was a good-sized entertainment cabinet on one end of the room, with stereo system and TV, two recliners that ran along one wall, and a large couch directly opposite the TV. On that wall was a large mirror. Next door to the room was the rec room, where Brian led the other two boys, and a small group of kids were waiting around a pool table.

"Sean," Brian said, pointing to everyone in the group, "meet Vanessa, Dave, Jeff, and Bill. You already know Tommy, of course. You want something to drink?"

Sean nodded, looking at all the audio/visual equipment. "I'll take a soda, if you have one."

Bill went to a cooler, grabbed a cola and tossed it to Sean. "Ready to watch some television?" Bill asked with a smile.

Sean shrugged. "I'm sure you didn't invite me here for my charming personality. Let's get to it."

Brian took a videotape from a table, and led Sean back to the living room. "You can watch it here," he said, handing Sean the tape. "We'll be in the next room; just holler when it's over."

"You leaving me alone?" Sean asked.

"Well," Brian answered, "it's kind of a private experience, how we do it. Besides, we've all seen it before." With that, he left the room.

Sean examined the tape. No labels, nothing to indicate that it was such a thing of mystery. Part of him wondered if it was some kind of setup, or a big joke. Shrugging it off, he put the tape in the VCR, and grabbed the remote.

"Long as it's not a PBS mini-series or something," he muttered to himself.

-----

In the next room, a camera pointed at a small hole in the rec room wall sent a video feed to a nearby TV. The hole was above the TV cabinet in the living room, and a special zoom lens allowed the recording of what went on. Brian, Vanessa, Bill, Dave, and Jeff all gathered around the TV, which showed Sean sitting down on the couch as the tape prepared to play. Tommy was huddled in the corner, not watching the feed, quietly muttering to himself, prayer-like, "Please watch the tape, please watch the tape, please watch the tape, please watch…."

"Shut up, Tommy," Brian said curtly.

They watched Sean's reaction to the video. He frowned in puzzlement as the others heard the thrumming, then the metallic screeching of the background noise. At one point, Sean winced at something.

"The pierced fingernail," Jeff took a guess.

Before long, they heard the white snow that signaled the tape's end. Sean shut the tape off. "It's over," he called.

"You can relax, Tom," Vanessa said as they filed into the living room.

They all stood at one end of the room, Sean on the other. "So?" Brian asked. "What did you think?"

Sean thought for a moment, aware that they were all trying to gauge his reaction. "Very bizarre," he finally said.

"It gets better," Vanessa told him.

"What do you mean?" Sean asked.

Just then, the phone rang. No one answered Sean's question, and he was puzzled by Tommy's behavior; the kid was biting his nails, and seemed skittish.

By the third ring, Brian motioned to the receiver. "It's for you," he said.

Now completely baffled, Sean decided to play along anyway, and answered the phone. "Hello?" he said.

There was silence on the other end. Then, Sean heard what sounded like a little girl's voice, whispering: "Seven days." Then the connection was broken.

Sean looked at the phone. "Seven days," he repeated. "Seven days to what?"

Brian spoke up. "Seven days of some…unique experiences. We want you to keep track of whatever you see, then come back next Friday at…." He looked at the clock; 3:40 in the afternoon. "3 o'clock or so. Make sure you aren't late!"

Sean nodded, "Yeah, sure. Okay. 3 o'clock it is."

As they led Sean to the door, Bill said, "It might get intense, man. Hope you don't scare easy."

Sean hesitated. "Actually," he said, "I don't scare at all. It's a genetic defect I was born with; my body doesn't have the gene that makes you feel fear. So, nothing scares me."

The others looked at each other, bemused by this little tidbit. Brian gave a small smile. "Interesting," he said.

For a moment, Sean and Brian just stared at each other. Then, Brian said, "3 o'clock. Friday."

"Right," Sean said, then walked toward his car, shaking his head as he wondered what he was getting into.

Brian waited until Sean was in his car, then spoke to the others. "No one says a word about making a copy, you understand?"

Tommy watched Sean pull away. "What if it's all true?" he asked. Truth was, now that it was done, he was having second thoughts.

Brian turned to him. "What do you care? Your ass is off the hook."

Tommy hesitated; Brian grabbed him by the collar. "Don't you get wimpy on me, Rusk," he said in a low voice. "Don't even think about it. We're gonna hit the big time with this one."

Tommy grabbed at Brian's arm. "All right, man! Lay off!" As the others went inside, Tommy stared up the road where Sean had driven off, then finally shook his head.

"_Vaya con dios_, man," he said as he shut the door.

-----

That night, Sean sat up in bed, unable to sleep. Those images on the tape were stuck in his head. He knew he should have been scared by it, or at least creeped out; the feeling was foreign to him, but the concept wasn't. It just wasn't happening.

Puzzled, on the other hand, oh yes. We had puzzlement coming in droves. Who was that woman brushing her hair in the mirror? The one who looked like she threw herself off of a cliff. For that matter, when that mirror jumped from the right side of the screen to the left, who was that girl who appeared for a second? Sean wondered if she was the one whispering on the phone.

As Sean was trying to guess where this would all lead over the next week, he heard moaning coming from the next room. Janet was having another nightmare. She'd been having them off and on ever since their mom died, although Sean wondered if it was just a coincidence.

The moans grew louder, and now Sean could hear her start to cry, "No, no please!" Must be a real humdinger, from the sound of it. Sean lay down, and closed his eyes.

His lack of fear wasn't the only thing about him, although it was the only thing he felt okay talking about. He had a talent. He wasn't sure what the scientific name for it was, but he could enter someone's consciousness when they were caught off guard. When someone was dreaming was the best time. Like Janet was now.

Sean stretched his mind out, not sure of how he ever did it, but just knowing what to do, as he had with Janet several times before. He felt his mind link with hers; it was like looking at a rapidly flowing river as her dream progressed. Sean jumped in, and found himself standing on a cliff in a forest. Janet was being menaced by a werewolf. A very tall one, at that.

She saw her brother had entered her dream, as he always did. "Sean, help me!" she cried out.

Wondering where his sister came up with these things, Sean charged, taking as much control of her dream as he could, as he was able to do with his. The werewolf raised his clawed hands, ready to slash at Sean, but he slid at the last second, feet first, smashing into the beast's knees. The thing howled in pain, but didn't drop however, and Sean drove his forearm up between its legs, right into its crotch. That dropped it. Sean then grabbed a hairy arm, and with all his strength, flung it toward the cliff's edge. "Piss off!" he shouted.

The wolf's forward momentum caused it to fall off the cliff, howling all the while. Sean turned to Janet and winked. She smiled back, then caught movement out of the corner of her eye and screamed. Sean turned to see about a dozen other werewolves, snarling, drooling, and walking toward them.

Sean wasn't worried of course, but knew that the nightmare had gotten out of control, as they sometimes did. It wasn't good for Janet, either. Sean ran up behind her, wrapped his arms around her, shut his eyes, and with a _blink!_ felt them fade out of the dream, and back to reality as they both woke up.

Sean walked into Janet's bedroom as she was sitting up. "Eight foot tall werewolves," he said as he sat on her bed. "That's different."

Janet lowered her head. "That had to be the worst one yet."

Sean thought for a moment. "No," he replied, "that mutant grizzly bear you whipped up last week gets my vote."

Janet looked at her brother. "Why do I dream of those things?" she asked.

Sean took her hand. "I guess you're just more susceptible to nightmares. It happens. You should try to learn how to control your dreams, then they wouldn't be so bad."

Janet shook her head. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

"Start with the good dreams, first," Sean said. "It takes practice. Besides, until you figure out how to manage the bad ones, I'll come running if you need me."

"Promise?" Janet asked.

"Cross my heart, sis. Get some sleep."

A few minutes later, Sean was asleep himself. Oddly, his last thought before drifting off was of that well, the last image on the tape.

-----

Saturday and Sunday, the first and second days after Sean watched the tape, brought nothing. Monday, the third day, was when it started.

Sean was walking to school from the parking lot, when he was joined by Amy Adams, who was in his world history class.

"Hey, Sean, ready for that test today?" she asked.

Sean thought Amy was pretty, and cool. They had gotten friendly over the last few weeks; in fact, Amy was the only real friend that Sean had made.

"As ready as I'm gonna get," he replied. "I'm hoping that Souza goes light on the Spanish Inquisition though. I never really had the chance to brush up on that."

They chatted on the way to the door, when Sean stopped short. "What is it?" Amy asked.

Sean was staring at a large ladder that was propped up against the side of the school. Something about it…then he remembered; the ladder from the video. _I guess this is where it starts,_ he thought to himself.

"Sean, you okay?" Amy's voice brought him back to reality.

He thought fast, "Yeah, just thought it was odd to see that ladder propped against the school like that. No one using it, and it could just tip over."

Amy looked puzzled. "Ladder? What ladder?"

Sean pointed. "The one over—you mean you don't see it?"

Amy shook her head. Sean looked back, and now he didn't see it either. He whistled. "Never mind. I think I studied too much and baked my brains."

Amy laughed, and the two went in the building. Nothing else odd happened that day, nor the next, until Sean got home from school. His sister was at school and dad was at work.

As he went to the closet in the front foyer to hang his coat up, he caught movement in the hallway mirror, and it wasn't himself. Sean took a hard look, then he saw it. That girl, the same as in the mirror on the tape. Flickering in and out, almost like she was illuminated by candlelight. Sean could see that she was young, maybe younger than Janet. She was wearing a dress that could have been white, and had long dark hair. Sean couldn't make out the face, though.

He kept staring, then the image shifted suddenly to an eclipse-like ring, the same as the very first image on the tape. Then back to his own reflection.

"Next thing, it'll be Rod Serling. Or Allen Funt," he said aloud as he went to grab a snack.

He kept track of all this, as he was asked to do, but wondered what the hooplah was all about. Never mind the fact that he couldn't be afraid; he doubted that he would be scared even if it was possible.

Then came Wednesday. Day five. The first day of the seaside spring carnival.

Janet had begged to go to the festival down at the boardwalk. Dad had said he couldn't take her, he had to work of course. He felt bad about it, but both Janet and Sean understood and were okay with the fact that since he was new at the hospital, he couldn't exactly pick his schedule. Sean had volunteered to take her. Dad just told them to remember it was a school night.

They walked along the boardwalk; Janet was munching on some cotton candy, Sean was polishing off a bag of popcorn. He didn't mind being a seventeen year old hanging out with his ten year old sister, especially since their mom had died.

Up ahead were two policemen, mounted on horseback.

The two siblings were debating which game to try; to go for the giant stuffed teddy bear, or the framed Pocahontas poster, Janet's favorite Disney movie. Suddenly, Sean became aware that the horses in front of them were acting strangely. Skittish. And increasingly so, as the crowd started to give the cops a wide berth. Sean held an arm out to stop Janet, then realized that the horses were looking in their direction, at them.

The policemen tried desperately to keep the horses calm, climbing out of the saddles and holding tightly to the reins. Sean then realized that the horses weren't looking at them, but at _him_. As if he were a giant rattlesnake or something. Being fearless didn't keep him from being cautious, but as he slowly moved Janet and himself away, it was as if his very movement drove the horses to the brink of insanity.

"What's wrong with them, Sean?" Janet asked.

"I don't know, sis," Sean answered, but something inside told him to get moving away, fast. "Let's just get out of here."

As they went to leave the area, all hell broke loose. The horses broke free of the cops' hold, and charged at the kids. Or rather, at Sean.

Realizing later that he must have been half expecting it, Sean pushed Janet out of the way, and with a speed that would impress any track coach, turned and ran like hell. The horses thundered past Janet, and chased Sean.

His adrenaline surging, Sean looked back at the charging stallions. "Move! MOVE!" he shouted at the people as he turned onto a pier. "GET THE HELL OUT OF THE WAY!" Once it saw the horses behind Sean, the crowd was, of course, happy to oblige.

Soon, Sean realized that he had turned onto a dead end. Nothing left at the end of the pier but the Pacific below. _Looks like I'm going swimming_, he thought to himself as he prepared to hop the rail.

It was then that he tripped on a loose board, stumbled, and fell hard, rolling all the way to the end of the pier, crashing into the barrier.

He looked to see the screaming horses almost on top of him.

"Oh, shit!" he yelled as he moved into a fetal position; it was all he could think of to do.

Just then, the horses leaped high into the air, over Sean and the pier's end, and plunged into the water below.

It took Sean a minute to realize what had happened. He stood up, looked over the edge—and was stunned by what he saw.

People on the scene thought it was from the impact of the water. A veterinarian, doing a medical exam would later reveal that it was coronary thrombosis, possibly from running so hard. None of that mattered to Sean at the moment; those horses were stone dead, no matter what the cause. But even that wasn't what left him dumbfounded. The bodies lay on their sides, slowly drifting to the shore. And this time, Sean knew exactly where he had seen that before.

The tape. The dead horses on the tape, floating gently in the surf.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell is going on?" Sean wondered.

Janet ran up to him and wrapped him in a bear hug. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"Yeah," he answered, "just a bit banged up from that fall. Let's get out of here and go home; I've had enough fun for one day."

What Sean was worried about was the news story that would surely hit about this. It wasn't every day someone found himself running for his life from police horses. And, thanks to tourists with digital and video cameras, all the local networks broke the story. None of them identified Sean, though, at least by name. So he would have that anonymity at least.

Later that evening, his dad came home from work as Sean was watching the end of the newscast.

"Heard you had an interesting day," his father said.

Sean chuckled. "Yeah, that's an understatement."

His dad glanced at the ceiling. "Janet okay?

Sean nodded. "Physically, yes. She seems to be sleeping okay, too. I thought for sure this would trigger another nightmare."

Mr. Lewis slumped in a chair, shaking his head. "Sean, I'll tell you, if that were me, I'd have just about shit my pants." He had accepted his son's…abnormality, but he didn't quite understand it.

Sean shrugged. "To be honest, sometimes I wish I could be afraid, just once. I feel like I'm missing out on a part of life, as crazy as it sounds."

His dad gave a smile. "From what I hear, though, you peeled out of the way pretty fast!"

Sean had to smile in return. "I'm fearless, Dad. Doesn't mean I have a death wish. Can I get you something to eat?"

Mr. Lewis stretched and yawned. "Thanks, but no. I've got another marathon coming up in about 5 hours. This is the best chance I've got to get some sleep, so I'm going to take advantage of every minute."

"Okay, Dad. Good night."

-----

Day six.

Sean was getting his history test back. He'd manage to score an 88 on it, good enough for a B+. Amy caught his eye, and she flashed him her test score; 85. Sean showed her his, and she stuck her tongue out at him. Chuckling, he went to get his backpack, and stopped cold.

Blood was seeping from his fingernails, from under his nails at an alarming rate, splattering everywhere every time he moved his hands. "Arr, shit!" he cried, just as the bell rang. Sean rushed to the door, hearing other students yell at him to watch out, hearing Amy asking what was wrong, and ignoring all of them, ran for the men's room.

By the time he got to the sink, and got his hands under running water, the blood had gone. Slowly he realized it was never there; only in his head.

Exhaling sharply, he splashed water on his face. "That damn video, the nail through the fingertip," he reminded himself, and wondered if it was possible to lose your mind, even if you were fearless.

Amy was waiting at his locker. "You okay? What was that about?"

Sean thought fast. "Broke my pen, got ink everywhere. I guess I was in a hurry to get rid of it and clean up before I made a huge mess."

At that moment, Bill walked by, holding the day's paper. The mad horses were the front page news, and there was a photo of Sean taken as he was leaving afterward. "Told you it was going to get intense, Sean," he said, and walked away.

"What's he talking about?" Amy asked.

Sean shook his head. "Nothing. Just busting my chops about the festival yesterday, I guess. Let's go."

As they walked off, Bill had met up with Dave, and they were reading the front page.

"He still has no clue, does he?" Dave asked.

"I guess not, poor bastard," Bill answered. "If it's all true."

"Hey, wait a minute," Dave said. "You remember, after we took our turns, how our photos were blurry? Our faces?"

"Yeah, so?"

Dave held up the paper to Bill. "What do you make of that?"

He pointed to Sean's picture. It was fine. No blurry face. Bill had no answer.

-----

That night, Sean woke up with a tickle in his throat. As he got out of bed, he muttered to himself, "Last thing I need is a damn cold before vacation."

He went to the kitchen and grabbed a glass, poured himself some water. As he went to take a sip, he had a massive coughing fit, and started choking. Caught off guard, he dropped the glass, and fell to his knees as it shattered. He soon realized that there was something in his throat, in his mouth.

Reflexively, he went to pull it out. Gagging, his eyes bulged in revulsion as he started pulling a rope out from his mouth. He kept pulling, and then realized it wasn't exactly a rope, but something similar; the material was spongy. He kept pulling and pulling, and as he wondered exactly what he had swallowed, his mind recalled another image from the tape; a rope-like object being pulled from a person's throat.

"Urg-gaagh!" he cried as he kept pulling, trying to keep from vomiting, for then, he knew he would surely choke. Finally, he pulled the last of it out, flung it aside, stood up, and then allowed himself to lean over the kitchen sink, but all he had were dry heaves.

Once he was certain he was okay, he turned around. The rope, or whatever it was, was gone, but there was a trail of water leading into the dining room.

"Now what?" he said quietly as he followed the trail. There, on the hardwood floor, was a good sized pool of water, with something floating on the surface. As he knelt down next to the pool, he scooped up with his hand, and frowned as he picked up a long clump of hair.

He had just enough time to realize it was human hair, when a hand shot out from the pool, grabbing Sean by his bare forearm. Instinctively, he tried to pull back, but the hand had his arm in a vice-like grip, and it was no use. "What the he-AAH!" he cried as pain flared in his arm—

--and he woke up. Knowing that he'd had a nightmare, instinct still drove him to check his arm. To his surprise, he saw that the pain he had felt wasn't phantom. There was a burn mark in the shape of the hand that had grabbed him. He glanced at the clock; just after three in the morning. Friday; day seven. In less than twelve hours, he had to be at Brian's house. Maybe then this madness would stop.

"Maybe I can convince Dad to sign me up for a CAT scan," he said quietly as he flopped back into bed.

-----

Later that morning, before school, Brian phoned Tommy. "Don't forget, 3 o'clock at my house."

"Bullshit," Tommy said. "Count me out."

"You're joking, right?" Brian almost shouted. "We're gonna do a web broadcast and everything. This is gonna be huge!"

"If what's supposed to happen happens," Tommy yelled back, then dropped his voice so that his parents wouldn't overhear, "we're gonna be responsible for someone's death!"

"We're gonna crack a mystery that's been driving us all batshit for months," Brian said. "So what if something happens to him?"

"You're crazy, Brian. I'm done with this."

Brian sighed. "Suit yourself," and hung up.

Tommy put the receiver down, and prayed that it was all just a bunch of bunk.

-----

The school day brought nothing unusual, but for Sean, it was like the calm before the storm. It was perhaps as close to uneasy as he'd ever been in his life. When school let out, Sean stopped at home to drop off his books, then, since it was a nice spring day, walked to Brian's. It was just after three when he rang the doorbell.

Brian answered. "Come on in, man. How've you been?"

Sean didn't return the smile. "Lovely. Let me ask you something. What's to stop me from leaving right now, and calling this whole thing off?"

Brian hesitated, then realized that Sean wasn't bluffing. Better to give him a version of the truth to appease him.

"All right, look," he said as shut the house door. "Just come tell us what's been happening to you so far, and I'll explain what the deal is."

They went down to the rec room. Sean noticed that someone was missing. "Tommy couldn't make it?" he asked.

"Nah," Brian answered as he sat down. "Something came up. So tell us, man."

Sean told about everything; the ladder, the horses, the fingernails—everything. The others sat there taking it all in. When he was done, Sean turned to Brian. "Your turn."

Brian nodded. "Look. All the stuff that's been happening to you, even if you can't be afraid, you've got to admit it's been getting more intense as each day passes. I mean, that thing with the horses…whoa! Anyways, day seven is supposed to bring the most intense experience out of all of them. Right at the same time you watched that tape a week earlier, which will be in about…six minutes. It's also supposed to explain everything else. None of us have made it to day seven, we haven't had the guts to go that far. You on the other hand, should be able to handle it. You're at the edge of the frontier, brother! You can help us learn it all!"

Sean thought about this. Something Brian said nagged at him, about not going to day seven, but Sean ignored it for now. "You still haven't answered my question. What if I leave?"

Jeff spoke up at that point. "It's gonna happen to you no matter where you are. Here, we can help each other understand it."

Brian nodded. "Exactly. Come on, man!"

Sean paused, then got right in Brian's face. "The last few days have had me questioning my sanity, and it's something that I find rather unpleasant. After today, I don't want anything to do with you again. Clear?"

The others just stared. From anyone else, it would have looked like false bravado, and would have even been comical. But they knew that from Sean, it was serious.

Brian nodded. "Fair enough. I give you my word that we'll leave you alone."

Minutes later, Sean was in the living room, the others in the rec room.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," he said to himself.

-----

Brian was having a hard time sitting still. "You got the camera rolling?" he asked.

Dave nodded. "We are live on the web, baby!"

Vanessa looked at Brian. "You better have something in mind if this is all true," she said.

Brian glared at her. "Will you stop worrying about…."

"Shut up, everyone," Bill interrupted, pointing at the screen. "Here we go!"

-----

Sean sat on the couch, looking around, checking his watch every so often. At 3:40, the TV flickered on to white snow.

Sean looked up, frowning. Who turned that on? Figuring it must have been someone in the next room playing a joke, he stood up and shut it off. As he walked back to the couch, he heard the TV come on again behind him, but not snow. Some weird feedback was softly coming from the speaker. Sean turned to see a well on the screen. The same well as on the tape. He stepped back to the couch, folded his arms, and waited. Whatever was going to happen, this was it.

For a moment, nothing happened. Sean tapped his foot in anticipation. "Come on, then," he beckoned. Just then, what looked like an oil slick covered the rim of the well, but then Sean saw a hand come out from the well, and the oil slick turned out to be hair. Someone was coming out of the well. It looked like a girl, and Sean wondered if it was the same girl in the video. Her dress was dirty and grimy, and she began to walk forward, toward the screen.

As she moved closer, water began to trickle from several places in the room, even from the TV. Some instinctive part of Sean's mind told him to call this off and get out, but curiosity kept him rooted at the spot.

-----

In the next room, the others sat spellbound as they saw, with perfect clarity on the video feed, the TV's reflection in the living room mirror and the girl coming closer.

"Oh, man," Jeff said, "it's happening. It's actually happening!"

"Shut up!" Brian hissed. "Sean'll hear you!"

"He's just standing there," Vanessa marveled. "He's not panicking at all."

-----

Now the girl was just about filling the screen, her long hair covering her face like a grimy, dark veil. _She gets any closer, she's gonna come through the screen_, Sean thought to himself.

Seconds later, she did exactly that. First her head, then an arm as she crawled out of the TV, a trail of water in her wake. Sean found himself automatically taking a few steps backward, unsure what to make of this. He saw from her arms and legs that she looked like she'd been underwater for a long time; she looked almost like a submerged body come to life.

As she stood up, Sean took a step closer. "Who are you?" he asked. At the sound of his voice, she turned toward him. "Who are you?" he asked again.

In response, the girl raised her head, the veil of hair parted, and Sean found himself staring at the scowling face of what was once a young girl, and now was the water-rotted face of a corpse.

"What the fuck?" Sean yelled. It was all he had time to say.

The girl fixed her gaze upon him, and suddenly Sean's head was filled with random images, some from that video, some not, all full of pain, hate, and death, all amplified to the nth degree. The speed and ferocity of it all--it was like a bullet from a gun--overloaded Sean's senses, and he grabbed the sides of his head, screamed, and fell to his knees.

He was able to summon one last coherent thought; _This must be what it's like to die. And I'm still not afraid._

Then the Ring filled his vision and eclipsed everything, and Sean sank into its darkness.

-----

As they watched Sean collapse, the others went crazy.

"We got it!" Brian yelled. "We got the whole damn thing! This is the big time, baby!"

Vanessa stared in horror. "It's all true. We just killed someone!"

"We didn't kill anybody!" Brian shouted at her. "That girl did!"

Vanessa stood up and glared at Brian. "We let it happen! Isn't that bad enough for you?"

Dave was checking the video feed. "It all got broadcast! Every minute!"

Brian was practically dancing around the room. "We've got the whole enchilada for the world to see! It's all us!"

Jeff sat in shock. "Oh, man," he said. "Oh, God. Oh, shit!"

Only Bill was still watching the TV, and saw the girl turn away from Sean, and look back at their direction. "Uh, guys?" he said.

Brian and Vanessa were still yelling back and forth; "We're as responsible for his death as that girl!"

"Ask me if I give a shit!"

"Guys?" Bill called out.

"David," Brian said, "keep that camera rolling!"

"Guys?" Bill yelled. "Look!"

Now the others watched the screen as the girl walked forward.

"So what?" Brian said. "She's going back to where she came from."

Bill shook his head. It looked like the girl was looking right at them. "I don't think so."

"What do you mean?" Brian asked as he pointed to the TV's reflection in the mirror. "See, there's the well! Why would she come at us when we didn't watch…."

He broke off in mid-sentence as he realized what he just pointed out. The angle of the mirror caught the TV's screen just right, and reflected it back at them.

In a moment of synergy, it all occurred to them at the same time. When Sean first watched the video, they were watching him, and the TV screen was reflected in that mirror, and broadcast back to them via the video feed.

They had unknowingly watched it at the same time as Sean. And it was now seven days later. And the girl was coming for them.

"Oh, Jesus," Bill said in a weak voice as Brian ran to the door, propping a chair in front of it.

"Little bitch ain't getting in here." He said almost in a whisper.

The girl kept walking forward, toward the hole in the living room wall, and the video camera behind it; her image filling the screen. She held out a hand, and before anyone could react, her hand came out of the TV screen in the rec room.

Everyone jumped back as she pulled herself out. Vanessa screamed. Dave wet his pants. Brian could only stare.

She took Vanessa first. All it took was a lift of the head, a gaze, and Vanessa's screams came out garbled as her face distorted right before their eyes. Her eyes took on a glassy look, and she fell to the ground.

The girl turned toward Dave, who held his hands out in front of him. "Please, no! Oh, God, please!" he cried, practically begging, and as his pleas became strangled, Bill ran for the door.

"Oh Jesus oh Jesus oh Jesus…" he was calling out as he threw the chair to the side, ran out of the room, and raced for his car. He fumbled for the keys, finally got the car started, threw it in drive, and peeled away.

"Please be over, please be over, please be over," Bill whispered as tears streamed down his face. Movement caught his eye in the rearview mirror. In an automatic response, he looked up--and saw the girl in his back seat.

Bill looked behind him, and saw no one in the seat. He looked back to see the girl staring at him, and had time for one last scream. He was dead before his car hit the telephone pole.

Back in the rec room, Jeff grabbed a cue stick, and swung it at the girl. The stick passed right through her, and for a second, her image flickered; almost as if she were nothing more than a projection whose signal had caught some interference. Before Jeff could swing again, she caught his eye, and he too fell.

Through it all, Brian had stood dumbfounded, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Slowly, the girl paced the room, almost like she was circling for the kill. For months, they had passed around the video as the ultimate dare; can you go to day seven? Now, it had all blown up in their faces. Lady Death was here, live, via satellite, in the form of a little girl.

_I will not scream_, he repeated silently to himself. _I will not scream. I will not scream._

And then she fixed her stare upon him, and of course he screamed; he screamed harder and louder than he ever had in his life. As he felt his face contort, and as his life left his body, he was able to think one more thought; _Why didn't the rest of us see the visions like Sean did?_

-----

The girl looked around the room feeling a sense of satisfaction. She had known what they were doing with her tape; passing it around as if it were a game, or a joke. And now she had finally been able to show them the truth of her life. A life of pain and misery and death. She slowly walked out of the rec room, and into the living room where Sean lay crumpled on the floor.

Something about him caught her eye, and she approached him, full of curiosity. Then she saw it; his face didn't have the same distorted look, that frozen scream as the others. To a casual observer, he would have looked asleep. She then saw his chest rising and falling, and she realized, with a bit of shock, that he was still alive.

As she wondered how it was possible, the image of the well beckoned her to return to her prison, her tomb. She would have live with the fact that she might never know the answer to her question. She approached the screen, but then turned back to Sean.

"Why are you the only one saved?" she asked aloud. But there was no one conscious to hear her question, or to try and answer. She climbed back through the screen, and the TV shut itself off.

-----

TO BE CONTINUED….


	2. Mystery of the Ring

Part 2 (of 4): Mystery of the Ring

-----

Some time later, the dark haze began to lift, and Sean slowly regained consciousness. He sat up, only to have a rail spike of pain shoot through his head.

"Oh, my God!" he groaned as he grabbed his head and lay back down, trying to remember what the hell happened. Slowly it all came back to him as the pain faded; the TV, the well. The girl. Dimly aware that the carpet he was laying on was soaked, he climbed to his feet, and noticed that the door to the rec room was open.

"Okay, assholes," he called out. "Day seven has come and gone and the crazy train stops here! You want to know anything else, watch that damn video for yourselves! You hear me?"

There was no answer. Slowly, he staggered to the door. "Brian? I said enough is…."

Sean froze at the sight in the rec room. The place looked like a twisted morgue.

"…enough," he finished saying. "Oh, shit."

He walked over to Brian's body and felt for a pulse, knowing he wouldn't find one on any of them. He felt no panic, but could make no sense of it, either. Brian, Vanessa, Dave, Jeff; all dead. Bill was missing, but Sean had a feeling he was dead as well. He grabbed the phone to dial for help.

He got as far as 9-1--and then canceled the call. _Get real, Lewis_, he thought to himself. _What the hell are you going to tell the police? Assuming they don't automatically look to you as a suspect?_

Unable to panic or call the police, Sean did the only thing he could think of; he sat down to try to understand what had happened. He noticed that the floor was drenched; that was one tip-off.

_That girl did this_, he thought. _I'm sure of that much. Somehow, she did this to them, and tried to do it to me. So how did I get lucky?_ He studied each of their faces, they seemed to have been screaming as they died. Almost as if they were scared to death.

"That's it," he said aloud. They were scared to death from the same type of thing that he himself had been blasted with, but he couldn't be scared, and so was still alive. Something else nagged at him. Something Brian had said earlier….

"_None of us have made it to day seven…day seven…." _Brian's voice echoed in Sean's head, and then he realized. They knew what would happen; what day seven would bring. Or, at least they had an idea, but didn't want to risk it. _They wanted to know, and used me as the guinea pig,_ Sean thought to himself, and that realization brought a wave of anger over him. _The assholes were going to let me die as an experiment!_ Only, something had gone horribly wrong in the end, and the girl had gone after them for some reason.

Sean looked at the clock; it was well after five, and starting to rain out. No one else was home. But he wondered if anyone had called for help, it seemed that the others had made quite a commotion before they died. Ultimately, he decided that he didn't care. If they were willing to kill him, then screw them. He just needed to get out unnoticed by anyone. It was good that he didn't take his car; it would let him sneak away quietly, and if he got wet in the rain, then he wouldn't have to explain why he was laying on a wet floor; his clothes were already soaked.

As he went to leave the rec room, he looked back. "Hope you found all the answers you were looking for, Brian," he said quietly. Seconds later, he had slipped out the back door.

-----

When he came home, Janet was already there, watching a movie. She looked up at him, and frowned. "Sean, are you okay?"

"Yeah," he answered wearily, "I had gone out for a walk and got caught in the rain." He hated having to lie to her, but knew that he had to do it.

"I can see that, silly," she said, "but you look terrible. Are you feeling all right?"

Sean caught his reflection in the mirror. He did look like shit. "Oh, just a bad headache." This much was true; his head was still throbbing. "Listen," he said, "do you need anything?"

"No," Janet answered, "I'm all set."

"I'm gonna lie down for a while and try to sleep this off for an hour or so. You get me if you need anything, though. Okay?"

"All right."

Sean took a couple of Advil and flopped down on his bed, but his thoughts were too busy to let him sleep. _The police will come calling sooner or later_, he thought to himself. _Better get a story straight. No use denying I was there, at least last week. As far as being there today, I'd better put on a poker face._

Eventually, the headache passed, but he couldn't help but to keep wondering, who the hell was that girl?

-----

Brian's parents discovered the aftermath about an hour later. His mother wound up in such hysterics that she later had to be sedated; Brian's dad had to make the 911 call. The crime lab did their sweep of the house, and could find no real evidence of foul play, not for that type of death. It was pending the medical examiner's report, of course, but it just looked to be from natural, if freakish causes, wrapped in one hell of a coincidence.

Once it hit the police scanners, the news media was all over it. The local networks immediately broke into their regular programming to report the story, and it even made for a headline on CNN. Sean would later catch the news with his father, and was impassive about the whole thing. Tommy Rusk, who had helped trick Sean into watching the video in the first place and was absent from the scene, ran to the bathroom and gave up his supper. None of the dead were identified, save for Brian as it was his house, but Tommy realized that not only was the urban legend true, but that something had gone sour with the others, and wondered if he would eventually be next, even though he "beat" the curse.

He had no clue that Sean had survived.

-----

The police did come to the Lewis house to ask questions, but it was all generic. Mostly, they wanted to know as much about the kids as possible, to give some clue as to what could have possibly happened. Sean did mention that he was there last week, which was a good thing as his prints were found on the scene, but the admission helped quash any possible suspicions.

A couple of days later, Sean found that he was still bothered by the unanswered questions, but even more so, felt the need to tell _someone_ about what had happened to him. The question was, who to tell. His father was out; Janet, the less she knew, with her nightmares, the better.

Sean did think of someone though. That Sunday, after calling her beforehand, Sean met with Amy at a local ice cream shop that had opened early for the season.

"Can you keep a secret?" Sean asked.

"Why, Sean Lewis," Amy gushed with a smile, "you're confiding in me? I'm so touched!"

"Come on, Amy. I'm serious. It's about what happened at Brian's house."

Amy's smile faded, and Sean proceeded to tell everything. Amy's expression gradually went from shock to amazement.

"You came in contact with someone from the other side!" she exclaimed.

Sean blinked. "The what?"

"The afterlife! She had to be a ghost, or something!"

Sean sipped his milkshake as he mulled that one over. "I can't come up with anything else, but I'm not one who buys into all that crap."

Amy shook her head. "Well, I am, and I'm positive that that's exactly what it was. Question is, why did she attack you and the others?"

Sean put his cup down and leaned forward in his seat. "That's been bugging me ever since it happened, and it's what I'm going to try to find out."

Amy hesitated. "How?"

Sean made sure no one was listening in, and lowered his voice. "Word is that the Davidsons haven't been back to their house ever since it happened, and the police have pretty much done all they need to do. Brian's rec room had a ton of video equipment, computers, the works. All that should be able to give some answers if I can sneak in there."

Amy couldn't believe her ears. "You're crazy!"

Sean nodded. "Yeah, after what I've seen, maybe I am, but I've got to know. I figure tomorrow's Monday, school's out for the week, most of the neighborhood will be at work. I should be able to get it done without too much fuss."

Amy thought for a minute. "Let me come with you."

"What?" Sean shook his head. "Whoa, wait a minute; talk about crazy! I'm not afraid of getting busted, per se, but I know what'll happen if I do. If the two of us--."

Amy cut him off, "The two of us can look faster than just you. Besides, I'm as curious as you right now."

Sean sighed, then nodded. "All right, fine; we're both nuts. Meet me at my house around ten o'clock tomorrow morning and we'll walk over."

"Ten o'clock, check," Amy said, then smiled. "Gee, it's our first date."

Sean couldn't help but smile at that one. "Yeah, it should be one for the books!"

-----

The next morning, Amy showed up right on time. "You're alone?" she asked.

"Yeah," Sean answered, "my dad's at work and Janet's off playing somewhere. Let's get this over with."

Fifteen minutes later they were on Brian's street. "So, what's the plan?" Amy asked.

"We should be able to sneak in the back door; that's how I got out that day," Sean replied. "We'll just have to get in quickly. If it's locked, we'll have to get creative, though."

When they were sure no neighbors were watching, the two approached the back door. Sean tried the doorknob; it was locked.

"Maybe they have a spare key hidden somewhere," Amy said.

They were so busy looking for possible hiding places, they didn't notice someone coming up behind them.

"Sean?" a young voice called out.

Sean and Amy spun around; Amy cried out in surprise. Sean sighed once he saw who it was; _Busted._

"Go on home, Janet," he said. "You don't need to be a part of this."

"What's going on?" Janet asked. "Is this about what happened with those kids?"

"Yes, it does," Amy answered, "but we're just looking for information. We're not going to take anything."

"Well, let me stay with you two," Janet said. "I won't be in the way."

"Janet," Sean said, but Janet interrupted him.

"Sean, please! I don't want to be home by myself!"

Sean sighed, then shook his head. "All right. At least with me I can keep an eye on you. Just don't tell a soul about this, okay?"

Janet smiled and saluted. "Yes, sir!"

Sean kept looking, then noticed an odd looking rock laying in the bushes nearby.

"Well, hello there," he said, picking up the rock. He turned it around in his hands, then slid the hidden compartment open, letting the key fall into his hand.

He opened the door, let the two girls inside before him, returned the key to its hiding spot and locked the door behind him. "Downstairs," he said, leading them to a staircase. "It's all downstairs."

No one was home, as Sean suspected. When they got downstairs, Sean saw that the carpet in the living room was still damp. He pointed to the couch. "Janet, why don't you have a seat there, that way you'll be out of the way. We'll be in the next room; just give a yell if you need us."

Janet nodded and sat down as the Sean and Amy went into the rec room. There was very little trace of what happened, save for a wet floor. There was the computer, and a stack of files; papers, photos, and such.

Sean motioned to the computer. "We've got to disturb as little as possible. Why don't you check that out, I'll peruse through the files."

"What are you looking for?" Amy said as she sat down.

"Whatever I don't know already," Sean answered. "That girl's name would be a nice start."

Amy browsed through the computer while Sean started combing through the stack. After a while, he spoke up. "Brian was telling the truth about one thing; they were experiencing stuff after watching the video."

"Anything interesting?" Amy asked as she went through the computer's files.

"Well, some of them had different things than me. Jeff had a millipede or something come out of a power outlet in his house; there was a bug like that in the video. Same with the maggots; that was Dave's. Looks like I was the only one with the crazy horses, whatever that means. Although, all of them had some type of vision with the girl. She's the one common denominator."

"Not hard to believe, given what happened. Sean, check this out!"

Sean went over to the computer. Amy had a bunch of digital photos open; people with blurred faces. "That's them," he said. "I'm pretty sure of it, anyway."

"Looks like someone loaded them into Photoshop and went crazy," Amy remarked.

Sean pulled a bunch of polaroids from the stack of files. "Not quite," he said. "It's the same with these. Now that think of it; their faces after they died, they looked a lot like these."

He then pulled out a newspaper clipping. "Amy, look."

Amy glanced over. It was the news article the day after the incident with the horses. Sean's picture was circled; his face was normal. Next to the circle was a red question mark.

Neither one said anything. Amy then opened up a web page and called Sean over. It was a web blog from Brian. They scanned through it, but found nothing about the girl's identity. It was mostly about the group passing the video around. Out of curiosity, Sean went to the last entry of the blog, done that Friday morning.

"_Didn't get much sleep," _Brian had written. _"Too wound up; after months of wondering, we're finally going to see a Day Seven! The rest of the gang seems as jacked as I am, except for Vanessa; she's too worried about what will happen to Sean if the myth is true. I could care less about that right now; I'll worry about it later. Getting rid of the body, if there winds up being one, could be a concern, but the fact that we'll finally crack the mystery of that tape makes it all worth it._

"_Sean said he's fearless; it'll be interesting to see what good that does him if the rumors are true."_

As they read, Amy found herself taking Sean's hand in hers. "They were just going to let you die to get what they wanted," she almost whispered, horrified at the idea.

Sean gave her hand a squeeze. "Yeah," he said, his voice even, "but I guess karma came back to bite them on their collective asses."

At that moment, the phone rang.

Amy checked her watch. "Eleven o'clock," she said. "Wonder who's calling?"

"Don't know," Sean replied, "but don't answer it. Janet, don't answer the phone! It has to seem like no one's home."

"Okay," Janet called back from the next room.

After a minute, the ringing stopped; either the caller had hung up, or it went to an automated voice mail.

Sean put all the papers away. "I don't think there's anything else to find anyways…wait a minute."

Sean noticed the video camera pointed at the wall and, thinking it was an odd spot for a video camera, went over to take a look. He saw the small hole in the wall going into the next room. "What the hell?" he wondered, and went into the living room, where he saw that the hole came through that wall.

"What is it?" Janet asked, still sitting on the couch.

"Hang on, just have to check something," Sean answered.

He went back into the rec room, turned on the video camera and the TV that it was attached to, and found himself watching Janet.

"They were recording you?" Amy asked.

Sean studied the broadcast, and then he realized what had gone wrong. "Yeah," he answered Amy, "and that's where they screwed up. See the mirror on the wall behind Janet? See the reflection of the TV? They were watching me while I was watching the tape…."

"And the tape was reflected back at them," Amy finished. "Poetic irony, at it's finest."

"Speaking of the tape," Sean said as he looked around the rec room, then walked back to the living room, and knelt in front of the VCR, hitting the eject button. A tape with no label on it popped out.

"Is that it?" Amy asked.

Sean examined it for a minute, then looked at her. "Let's just assume that it is," he said as he ripped the tape from the casing, destroying it. "We'd better get going. We've pushed our luck far enough, I think."

A moment later, after making sure the house was back to how it was before they came in, they left through the back door.

"I can't believe we got away with that!" Amy remarked. "Sorry you didn't get your answers, Sean."

Sean shrugged. "Easy come, easy go. I guess it's for the…Janet, you okay?"

Janet had turned pale, and was starting to sweat. "I don't feel so good," she answered. "I feel cold."

Sean felt her forehead; she did feel cool to the touch, and the temperature outside was in the 70s. "I'd better get her home," he told Amy, putting an arm around Janet.

"Okay. I'll catch you later?" Amy asked.

"Sure thing," Sean said, leading Janet home.

-----

Janet did feel better later that day, but early Thursday morning, Sean was woken up by someone calling out. Groggily noticing that it was about two in the morning, Sean soon recognized the voice; it was Janet.

He went into her bedroom to see her tossing about in her sleep, obviously in the throes of another nightmare. He went to try and wake her up, when she suddenly cried out, "Sean! Help me, please!"

Realizing that this dream must be a whopper of a nightmare, Sean sat down in her bean bag chair, closed his eyes, and concentrated. He found the slipstream, and dove in. He found himself standing in a huge barn, empty of any animals. Sean frowned; he'd never been in a barn like this, and was sure that Janet hadn't either.

From the loft above, Sean heard Janet screaming, "Sean, someone, help me!"

There was a ladder leading up to the loft. Sean scrambled up it--and stopped in his tracks when he reached the top.

Janet was crouched in a corner, crying hysterically. Slowly approaching her was the girl from the video, arms outstretched, ready to grab Janet.

Sean couldn't believe his eyes. He had told Janet very little about what had happened to him, and certainly hadn't given her a description of the girl, yet there she was. As he wondered how this was happening, the only possible answer hit him like a shot in the dark.

_No_, he thought. _Oh, Jesus, no. No!_

Angrier than he'd ever been in his life, he climbed into the loft and stormed over to the girl, his footfalls echoing loudly in the barn. She turned to look at him, but he grabbed her by the throat before she could do anything, and pinned her up against the wall, off of the floor.

She said made no sound, but grabbed at Sean's arm, trying to break his grip. Sean held fast, with no fear of her at all. "I don't know who the hell you are," he told her, "but you leave my sister alone. Do you hear me, damn you? You leave her alone!"

Then he leaned in close; his face was inches from hers. "We two, you and I, have unfinished business," he whispered.

She stopped struggling at that. Sean then shifted his grip and threw her over the edge of the loft to the floor below. The girl made no sound, but Sean didn't hear her hit the floor, either. He held his hand out; Janet ran over to him and hugged him tightly. Sean hugged her back, closed his eyes--

_BLINK!_

--and they both woke up in Janet's bedroom.

Janet buried her face in her hands, sobbing. Sean walked over and sat on the bed, putting an arm around her. After a minute, he asked the question that he didn't want to know the answer to but knew anyway:

"Did you watch the video?"

Janet could only nod, then tried to find her voice. "While you were in the other room, I got bored and put the TV on. I saw the video sticking out of the VCR, got curious, and played it. It was creepy; I didn't know what to make of it."

Sean remembered when the phone rang; it must have been the girl calling with her warning. That was at eleven o'clock; he remembered Amy looking at her watch.

Janet had until eleven o'clock Monday morning to live. Unless they found a way to beat the curse.

Janet looked up at her brother. "What's going to happen to me, Sean?" she whispered.

Sean wiped her tears away. "Nothing," he answered. "Not a damn thing, all right? I'll go through hell if I have to, but you're going to be okay."

Sean gave her a hug, then tucked her back into bed. "Try to get some sleep," he said. "I've got some thinking to do."

As Janet closed her eyes, Sean went back to his room and sat at his desk. He realized bitterly, for the first time, that not only could he not be afraid of anyone, he couldn't be afraid _for_ anyone, either. He should have been scared for Janet, and the fate that loomed over her, but he wasn't. It felt unnatural to him.

It did nothing to dampen his resolve, however, that nothing was going to happen to Janet. That girl would have to literally go through him to get to her. But there had to be a way to beat it. Brian's group had managed to avoid the seventh day repeatedly, so it could be done. The question was, how?

After a few minutes, a plan formed in his head. It wasn't a bad plan, but he was going to need help. And it couldn't wait until morning.

He went downstairs, and came back to his room with the phone.

-----

One minute, she was asleep, and the next, Amy had a Green Day ringtone buzzing on her headboard. She fumbled for her cell phone, and frowned at the number on her phone's Caller ID; she didn't recognize it, but found herself answering anyway. "Hello?" she said, still half asleep.

"Amy? It's Sean."

"Sean?" Now she remembered, she had given him her phone number so they could go over notes for their history test. "What is it?"

"Amy, Janet watched the video."

That cleared the last of the cobwebs as Amy sat straight up in bed. "What?"

Sean told her about what Janet had told him, and the dream she had. Amy could only shake her head. "Oh, Christ, Sean. What are you going to do?"

"There's got to be a way out of it, and I know who to ask, but I doubt it'll be as simple as a phone call. I need your help."

"Of course. Anything."

She could almost hear a small smile in Sean's voice over the phone. "How good of an actress are you?"

-----

At around noontime, the phone rang at Tommy Rusk's house. Tommy was the only one home, but was nervous about answering it. Ever since the disaster at Brian's, he had become more nervous everyday. Either he would be afraid of someone finding out his involvement--he did get Sean to watch the tape, after all, and that was what led to everything else--or he was afraid that he had never truly beaten the curse, that it was only a matter of time.

Finally, after the seventh ring, he answered it. "Hello?"

"Tommy?" a female voice asked. "Is this Tommy Rusk?"

"Yeah, this is Tommy."

"Hi, this is Amy Adams, I don't know if you remember me, but I'm in your biology class?"

Tommy thought for a minute. "Oh, yeah. I remember you, now. Hi."

"Are you alone?"

Tommy hesitated. "Uh, yeah, why? What do you want?"

"Well," Amy said, "to be honest, you."

Tommy was stunned into silence. Did he hear that right?

"Tommy? Are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here…." He wasn't sure what else to say.

"Look, I have to make a confession," Amy went on. "I've been watching you for a while now. I've been wondering what it would be like to be with you, and I have to find out."

"Oh, man," Tommy couldn't help but say.

Amy dropped her voice to a husky whisper. "I've got an itch that I can't scratch. Can you scratch it for me?"

Tommy's mouth went dry and he almost dropped the phone. "S-sure," he finally said. "Where and when?"

"Meet me at the old Rooney house on Sherman street around 3:30. The place is abandoned and no one goes in there in the daytime. We can be alone for a while."

Tommy cleared his throat, unable to believe what was happening. Here was a hot chick, wanting to do it with him. He couldn't believe his luck, and rapidly forgot what he was nervous about. "I'll be there!" he said, and hung up.

-----

Back at her house, Amy hung up her phone, and sighed.

"Men are so easy," she said with a small smile.

-----

The Rooney house on Sherman street was an old 19th century Victorian house that had been abandoned years ago when the Rooneys just up and left town. Now boarded up, the place was popular among teenagers for a nighttime make-out spot that somehow managed to escape the police's notice. No one went in during the day, so Amy thought it was perfect for what she wanted.

She saw Tommy coming up nervously, and smiled. Taking his hand, she led him inside. "Come on," she whispered.

They walked into what had been the dining room, where someone had laid an old, but usable mattress on the floor.

Amy backed away from Tommy. "I hope you don't mind, but I brought a friend," she said.

"Really?" Tommy said, smiling. This was getting better and better!

Amy smiled back and nodded. "He just wants to ask you a few things before we do anything."

Tommy's smile faltered. _He?_ "Wait, what are you talking about?"

From behind him, he heard a door slam, and heard a voice that he never expected to hear again:

"_I'm_ what she's talking about, shithead," Sean growled.

Tommy spun around, and his jaw dropped in shock as all his fears came flooding back. "Oh, my God," he whispered, and tried to run out of the room. Sean caught up to him easily, and threw him against the wall.

"You son of a bitch!" Sean shouted. "What the hell did you try to pull on me?"

"I'm sorry, man, I'm sorry!" Tommy yelled.

"'An experience you won't soon forget.' Isn't that what you told me? You dumb mother--!"

"I had to, man!" Tommy cried in desperation. "Brian was so hell-bent on seeing day seven, and he was going to have me go through it! I had to get out of it and the only way was picking someone else! It was nothing personal! I figured you were still new, you didn't have any friends who'd miss you…what the hell!"

"Guess again, dipshit," Amy said coldly.

"How are you still alive, anyway?" Tommy asked.

"I told you. I can't get scared," Sean answered. "That girl came out of the TV, hit me with her best shot, and all it did was give me a bitch of a migraine."

"Oh, man," Tommy almost sobbed. "It's all true then. What about the others? How did it happen to them?"

Sean chuckled, a sound that chilled Tommy's blood. "Oh, that's the part that makes this funny as hell. You had a video camera on me, remember? You were all watching me like a lab rat. Brian had everything planned, except the mirror behind the couch. It caught the reflection of the tape and bounced it right back to them."

"I didn't watch," Tommy said in a small voice.

"Lucky you," said Amy.

Sean backed away from Tommy, and paced around the room. "How do you beat it?"

"What?" Tommy said.

"The curse. How do you beat it?"

"What do you mean?" asked Tommy, not understanding.

Sean tried desperately to keep his cool. He waved his finger in a circle. "I mean, you all passed the video around amongst yourselves, and always managed to avoid a day seven, for a while, anyway. How do you do it?"

Tommy frowned. "What does it matter to you? You beat it already."

Sean ran at Tommy and grabbed him by the collar, pinning him to the wall. "I mean my sister watched the goddamn thing!" he screamed. "_How the fuck do you beat it?_?"

"You have to make a copy!" Tommy cried.

"What?" Sean's voice dropped to almost a whisper.

"You have to make a copy and get someone else to watch it before your seven days is up," Tommy explained. "Then it's like; tag, you're it. I was on day six when you watched it."

All the emotion drained from Sean's face as he backed away. Amy put a hand on his arm. "Sean…," she said softly.

"A copy," Sean repeated numbly. _Oh, Jesus. Janet, I'm sorry. I am so sorry._

"What?" Tommy asked, puzzled.

Sean's voice was devoid of emotion. "I destroyed the tape at Brian's house so no one else could watch it. But my sister had already watched the tape without me knowing."

"Sucks to be her," Tommy said quietly.

That broke any restraint that Sean had left. His right fist flew out; Tommy dropped like a lead weight.

Amy grabbed Sean by the shoulders. "Sean! Sean, no!" she yelled, trying to restrain him. "It's not worth it." As Sean's whole body seemed to shake in anger, she stepped in front of him. "There's got to be another way. We just haven't looked hard enough, yet."

It worked. Sean started to relax as Amy took his hand. "Come on," she said. "Let's get some work done."

Sean started to follow, then pulled away and leaned over Tommy, whose face was a bloody mess.

"It's not over between us, you bastard," he said quietly. Tommy could only shut his eyes and whimper.

By the time he opened his eyes again, they had gone. But the fears remained, along with the knowledge that one more person, Sean's sister, was going to die.

The weight of blame, both justified and not, that he placed on himself was massive. For a while, Tommy could only just lie on the floor and weep.

-----

They got in Sean's car; Sean folded his arms over the steering wheel and buried his head, trying to hold back the tears.

Amy patted his shoulder, trying to comfort him. "You couldn't have known about making the copy," she said quietly.

"It's more than that," Sean said wearily. "I shouldn't have let her out of my sight. I shouldn't have let her in the house with us. Hell, I shouldn't have even been there myself; I should have quit while I was ahead. If she dies, it's on my head."

"Don't talk like that," Amy said. "Besides, there's still time. Maybe someone else knows more than Tommy does."

Sean sat up and wiped his eyes. "Yeah, you're right." As he started the car, he looked at her. "You have anyplace else you need to be?"

"Uh-uh," she shook her head. "I'm with you in this until the end."

"Thanks," he said, and put the car in gear.

"Where are we going?" Amy asked.

"The computer lab at the library," Sean answered. "We've got some research to do and I don't have an internet hook-up at home yet."

"Yeah, right!" Amy said. "It's school vacation, all the little boys and girls are out and about; you really think you're going to get on a computer without waiting a few hours? We don't have that kind of time. Just come to my house; I've got a DSL hookup in my bedroom."

-----

TO BE CONTINUED….


	3. Deadlines

Part 3 (of 4): Deadlines

-----

Ten minutes after leaving the old Rooney home, Sean and Amy arrived at her house.

"Where's your phone?" Sean asked. "I need to check on Janet."

"She's okay alone?" Amy asked.

"We've done it before; sometimes we have no choice with my dad being at work so many hours. She's okay for short periods at a time."

"The phone's down the hall, in the kitchen," Amy answered.

Sean dialed home, and waited as the phone rang. "C'mon, sis. Pick up," he said quietly.

After a minute, Janet answered, "H-hello?"

"Janet? It's Sean. Everything okay?"

The relief in Janet's voice was obvious. "Yeah, I'm all right."

"Listen, I'm at Amy's house; we're going to try to do a little bit of research and see if we can't solve this mystery. Why don't you just hang around the house until I get back?"

"Okay. Sean?"

"Yeah?"

"I saw something strange earlier today…," Janet hesitated.

Sean frowned. "What did you see?"

Janet sighed. "I opened a drawer in the kitchen to get a fork, and I saw…all these fingers just laying there, quivering. I thought it was gross and looked away, and when I looked back, they were gone. It was just like in the video."

Sean closed his eyes. It was starting.

"Sean?" Janet sounded like she was trying not to panic.

"Janet, listen to me. Over the next few days, you're going to be seeing some very strange things, and some of it might be scary. The important thing to remember is that they aren't real; they're phantom images. They can't hurt you."

"Not yet, though. But something bad is going to happen to me, right?"

Sean leaned his head against the wall. He didn't have the heart to tell her, because then it would mean giving up all hope of saving her. "Just don't worry, okay? We're gonna figure this out."

Janet took some comfort in his reassurance. "Okay. I love you."

"Love you too, sis. I'll be home soon."

Sean hung up, and turned to Amy. "Let's get rolling," he said.

He followed Amy upstairs. "Good thing my parents won't be home for a while," she said with a smile. "They'd kill me if they knew I had a boy up in my room."

Sean couldn't help but watch Amy from behind as he followed her. _Any other day they'd be right,_ he thought, _but I've got other things on my mind right now._ "Don't worry," he said aloud, "I'll behave myself."

They went into her room, and she turned on the computer that was on her desk. "I'll let you drive," she said. "You'd know better what we need to find out, anyway.

Sean sat at the desk and logged into Google as Amy sat on the bed behind him. For a moment, he didn't know where to begin. He thought of doing a search related to "videotape" but thought that'd be too generic. Finally, on a whim, he typed "ring" and started the search.

Ten entries came back, all related to The Lord of the Rings.

"Figures," Sean muttered. "The movie wasn't _that_ good, people."

He scanned the other entries, ten at a time. If it wasn't the Rings trilogy, it was jewelry stores, or other different web rings; web sites clustered under a specific topic. Finally, about five pages in, there was a listing for a website simply titled "Rings," with the brief description, "Have you seen the tape?"

"Now we're talking," Sean said as he clicked into the site. He couldn't believe what he saw next.

"My God," he whispered.

"What is it?" Amy leaned over his shoulder.

"Brian's wasn't the only group," he answered. "They're all over the country; look at this!"

The web site's menu had links to video and typed testimonials from people who had seen the video, and recorded their experiences. "They watch the video, go to day five or six, then pass it on," Sean continued.

Some were looking for a thrill, some believed that it was a key to the afterlife; a mystery to learn. No one had gone to day seven.

Amy pointed at the screen. "Sean, look there."

There was a link that read, "Day Seven discovery goes sour." Sean clicked it.

It was a news article about the deaths at Brian's house, along with a diary entry from him about what they were going to accomplish.

"The bastard was going to put my death on the web," said Sean.

There was a video link titled "Day Seven disaster." Sean moved the mouse over it, but Amy shook her head.

"Don't, Sean. I don't want to know."

Sean nodded, and checked out some of the other diary entries. After a few minutes, he leaned back in the chair. "Christ Almighty," he sighed with a bit of disgust.

"No luck?" Amy asked.

Sean shook his head. "It's all the same old crap. Watch the tape, pass it on. Watch the tape, pass it on. Let's trip out on the pretty rings but don't walk under the ladder."

"They think it's a joke," Amy said. "If only they knew."

For a moment neither one spoke. Then, Sean turned to Amy. "If only I had some idea who that girl was. Maybe I could look at all this from a different angle."

"Yeah," Amy replied, "but what would you search under? 'Girl in a video'?"

Sean thought a moment, then turned back to the screen. "Not quite. But…."

He went back to initiate a new search, and typed, "girl in a well'. He hit the jackpot right away; the first entry was a link to a local news report; the headline read, 'Girl's body recovered from well'.

"Bingo," Sean said. "That's got to be it."

He followed the link, and read the article aloud. "'The body of a young girl originally thought to have died in a fire in the late 1970's was recovered two days ago from a well at the Shelter Mountain Inn.' This article's only a few months old."

"Wait a minute," Amy said, leaning over Sean's shoulder. "I remember hearing about that when it happened." She scanned the article. "The girl was identified as Samara Morgan, she had died when she was seven. There's a photo of her."

"Samara Morgan," Sean repeated softly to himself as he stared at the photo, described as a video still, of a young girl. She was sitting in a chair in a stark white room, almost like an examination room. Her head was downcast, but her eyes were level with the camera, her expression neutral. Her long dark hair almost covered her face; Sean recognized her immediately.

"I'll be damned," he said. "That's her. The girl from the video."

"If she was supposed to have died in a fire, how did she get in there?" Amy wondered.

Sean went back to the news story. "Doesn't really say. Mentions her parents, Anna and Richard Morgan. Seems Richard had committed suicide the day before Samara's body was found, Anna had thrown herself off a cliff not long after Samara was to have died."

Sean had grown quiet at that. Amy nudged him. "What is it?"

Sean was looking at couple of photos of the Morgans. He didn't recognize Richard, but Anna….

"The woman in the mirror," he said to himself.

"What?" Amy asked.

Sean told her about Anna; how her suicide was on the video. Amy shook her head. "It's all coming together now," she said quietly.

Sean kept scanning the article. "Doesn't say anything other than that--wait a minute. The police were tipped off by a local newspaper reporter and a video technician who apparently found her body. Rachel Keller and Noah Clay."

"How did they find out about it?" Amy wondered.

Sean read for a minute. "'Unnamed sources,'" he announced.

"Bullshit," Amy said.

"Yes," Sean agreed. If those two were able to find out about where Samara was, that meant they knew about her to begin with. Maybe they knew how she got there.

"Sean," Amy said as she suddenly pointed, "look!"

There was a related story link in the article; an obituary for Noah Clay. Sean followed the link and read the text as it was loading. "Seems he died the morning after they found Samara. I wonder if--."

"Oh, my God!" Amy cried out and looked away as a photo finished loading. It was a close up photo, taken when police found Noah's body, of his face. Or what was left of it.

Sean recognized the glassy eyes, the distorted features. "Yeah, he watched the video, all right," he said. "Then the day after he helps recover her body, she comes and kills him. That's one hell of a 'thank you'."

Sean clicked back to the story about Samara. "You okay?" he asked Amy.

"Yeah," she said after a minute. "Just wasn't expecting that. Is that was Brian and the others looked like?"

Sean nodded. "Pretty much. So, he watched the video, and I'm willing to bet that this Rachel Keller did too." He scanned the article, and wrote something down.

"What's that?" Amy asked.

"The newspaper that she works at," Sean answered. "I've got a phone call to make."

"Why don't we make it at your house?" Amy said. "It's getting later in the afternoon, and my parents will be home soon."

"Good idea," Sean said. "I've left Janet alone too long already."

-----

They arrived at Sean's house just as Janet was getting off of the phone.

"That was Dad," she explained. "He'll be home in about an hour."

Sean looked at the clock. It was about 4:30 in the afternoon. "Man, that's a change for him," he said.

"Are you going to get in trouble if I'm here when he comes home?" Amy asked.

Sean shook his head. "No, my dad's pretty easygoing; we can just tell him we were working on a project for school or something if we have to, and I'll drop you at home when he gets here."

"Did you have any luck?" Janet asked anxiously.

Amy shrugged as Sean went for the phonebook. "Some. We know who that girl is, and we think we know someone to contact who might know a bit more."

Sean dialed the newspaper where Rachel Keller worked. "Time to raise bullshitting to an art form," he said quietly.

There was a pause Sean waited for someone on the other end to pick up. When someone did, Sean put the phonebook down.

"Hello, I'm looking for a Rachel Keller, is she available please?" A brief pause. Then, "Well, I'm calling on behalf of my high school newspaper; we're doing a sort of retrospective on some things that happened in the community this past school year, and she had done some features on a few things that I was just looking for more information on, and was hoping she could help me out.

"She's no longer there? She's moved to Astoria…yes, I know Astoria, Oregon, thank you." _Asshole._ "You wouldn't happen to have a listing, would you? No? All right, then. Thank you for your time."

Sean hung up. "She's living in Astoria, now."

"Oregon?" Janet said with a smile; she and Amy were trying not to laugh over that one.

"Yeah," Sean said rolling his eyes. "Don't you love it the way some people expect our generation to be a bunch of airheads?"

He grabbed a pen and paper, dialed information, and told the operator whose number he was looking for. After a moment, he jotted down a number.

"Only one listing for a Rachel Keller down there," he told the others. "Let's hope it's the right one."

He dialed the number, and waited. After a moment, he shook his head. "Voice mail," he explained. Then, into the phone, "Hello, Ms. Keller, my name is Sean Lewis and I'm calling from Seattle; the paper you used to work at told me you had moved away. My school newspaper is doing a retrospective of what's happened in the city this past school year, and I was hoping to get some extra information from you about a couple of the stories you covered. My phone number is 206-555-1120. I hope to hear from you soon as I'm…fast approaching a deadline this coming Monday. Thanks for your time."

"You don't think you should have given her the full story?" Amy asked as Sean hung up.

He shook his head. "Better to do that when I'm actually talking to her. Something tells me she's not going to be thrilled about revisiting this."

"So what's next?" Janet asked.

"The hard part," Sean answered. "The waiting. If she doesn't call back today, I'll have to try tomorrow."

The three hung out for the rest of the afternoon until Sean's dad came home. As Sean predicted, he had no problem with Amy being there, and even mentioned that she could come by tomorrow if they had work to do. Besides, he joked, even though he wouldn't be home, Janet made a good chaperone. The three kids couldn't help but chuckle at that one. Amy even blushed a little.

A short time later, Sean and Amy drove up to her house.

"So what time's good to come by?" she asked.

"My dad should be gone for work about nine o'clock. Any time after that," Sean answered.

"Okay. I'll come over as soon as I can," Amy said. She hesitated as she was about to get out of the car, and turned to Sean.

"You going to be okay?" she asked.

Sean sighed. It had been a long day. "I don't know. Ask me again in a few days."

Amy unexpectedly leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Have faith, Sean," she said, blushing again, and she got out of the car before he could say anything else.

Sean watched her go in the house. "Yeah," he said to himself as he drove off, "I should really know how I'm doing in a few days."

-----

It was about ninety minutes before dawn on Friday that Sean was woken up the sounds of Janet having another nightmare. Not even wasting time, he lay back down, closed his eyes, and felt himself fade into her dream.

This time, he was on a high ledge looking down at a mass of writhing bodies in a pool of muck. It took a moment for him to place it, but then he recalled a similar image on the tape shown just after a pile of maggots; the two images were eerily similar.

Drifting up to him were the sounds of moaning and wailing, and above that, Janet's shouts. Sean looked harder to see Janet stuck in the middle of the mass. He then realized that she wasn't just screaming, she was also trying to fight off the people that swarmed around her.

_Atta girl, Janet!_ Sean thought to himself; she was starting to learn to take some control. He took a few steps back, and then leaped off the ledge to the swamp below. As soon as he hit the muck, the people started crowding around him.

Sean immediately began to punch, kick, and claw his way toward Janet, and he saw that their faces all had one thing in common. They were all distorted and warped; it was as if it was a mass gathering of Samara's victims. Among the noise, Sean could hear a low moaning, "Help us. Help us."

Not all of them were looking for help, however. Sean also heard, "Join us. Join us."

Unwilling to do either, Sean eventually got to Janet. "This is getting old, sis!" he shouted above the noise.

Janet was visibly frightened, of course, but she also looked like she was tired of being afraid; she had a defiant look about her. "Can you get us out of here?" she asked.

Sean grabbed onto her, all the while trying to get some distance between them and the curse victims; he needed a moment to concentrate.

Just as he was about to try to make the getaway, something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. One of the faceless, coming straight at him, all but screaming, "Sean! Why us? Why not you?"

Sean somehow recognized him. It was Brian. Sean felt a flash of anger as he yelled, "Sooner or later, the ring comes back around, Davidson! Payback can be a bitch!"

Brian charged just as Sean focused on slipping him and Janet away. Sean swung his fist, knocking Brian away, but his attention was divided…

_BLINK!_

…and Sean and Janet found themselves surrounded by darkness. Pitch black darkness.

Sean looked around, even though he couldn't see a damn thing. One thing was for certain; they were out of whatever danger they were in. All there was now was just a black void. They were standing on some type of solid ground, but that seemed to be all.

"This is new," he said to himself.

"What happened," Janet asked. "Where are we?"

"I have no idea," Sean answered. He thought for a moment about what had happened. "I was trying to get us out of the dream, and awake again, but my concentration was broken at the last minute. So now I don't know where we are."

Janet thought for a minute herself. "Maybe we're in between," she said finally.

Sean followed her voice to where she was and took her hand. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, we're not awake, but maybe we're not completely asleep, either. At least we're not dreaming. Maybe you only got us halfway out of it."

Sean thought about that. "Maybe I can get us the rest of the way. Hold on."

He held her hand, concentrated…and then found himself in his bedroom.

"Weird!" he said as he walked to Janet's room.

She was sitting up already. "I tried to take control of it," she said.

"I noticed," he said as he sat on the edge of the bed. "That's how you do it. You do what you can, when you can."

"Sean, what's going to happen?" she asked after a moment.

Sean hesitated. He did not want to face this. "Janet, don't," he said.

"Please tell me," she insisted. "Even if it's something bad, which I think it is from the way you and Amy are acting. Maybe I won't be as afraid if I know what's coming."

Sean took a breath, then finally decided that she should know. He told her almost everything; how he was tricked into watching the tape, how Samara came for him, and how his fearlessness kept him alive, how her body was recovered from the well that she came from to claim her victims.

He did not tell her how destroying the tape ruined her apparent only chance for survival. She didn't need to know that; there was nothing that could be done now. That secret he would take to his grave, no matter how much it ate at him.

When Sean finished, Janet stared down at her hands. "I'm going to die," she said finally. "Or, at least I could die."

Sean felt his voice start to break as he answered, "Yes. You could."

Janet looked up at him, eyes full of silent tears. "Will you be there with me when it happens, one way or the other?"

Sean could only grab her and hug her tightly, and she could only hug him back.

-----

The two were watching Maury Povich later that morning when the doorbell rang around ten o'clock.

"That could be Amy," Sean said as he got up. On his way to the door, he found himself checking his appearance in the mirror, making sure he looked okay.

_Hey_, he thought, _what the hell, right?_

He opened the door and frowned; Amy looked like she was going to be sick. "Amy, what is it?" he asked.

Amy stepped in the house carrying a newspaper. "Have you seen the paper yet?" she asked.

"No," Sean shook his head, "my dad took it with him before I could get to it. Why?"

She showed him the local news front page, and Sean could only stare as he took it. It was an article about Tommy Rusk. He had cut his wrists in the bathtub the night before. According to the article, there was a suicide note left behind with jagged writing, of only one word: CURSED.

"Christ," Sean could only say.

"Do you think we led him to do it?" Amy asked?

Sean slowly shook his head as he realized what Amy was worried about. "We couldn't have helped his frame of mind any, but I think there was a lot more to it than that. Watching that tape puts some kind of mark on you, I think. That must have been what drove those horses crazy over me the day of the carnival. Even if you beat the curse, the mark never really goes away. Maybe I haven't noticed it that much because of the way I am, but Tommy…it just all might have driven him over the edge."

Amy remembered how Sean had acted toward him the day before. "You don't seem too upset with the news," she commented.

"I'm not especially sad to hear it," Sean admitted, "but I do pity him. Those seven days leading up to…you know; I thought I was going crazy, and that's without being afraid of it all. Someone like Tommy who was spooked of the whole thing to begin with…. Yeah. I do feel a little sorry for him."

The two went into the living room. "So what's the next move?" asked Janet.

Amy stopped short when she saw Janet; the girl had a haunted look on her face. "Sean, you told her?" she asked, surprised; she thought Sean wanted to keep it from her.

Sean sighed. "Yeah, she knows it all." He then explained the dream Janet had last night.

Amy gave Janet a hug. "Don't worry," she told her, "we'll figure it out." She then turned to Sean. "So, what is the next move?"

Sean grabbed the phone. "We keep phoning Astoria until we get an answer. I know it's Friday, but you never know; she might be home for the day."

He called once again, looking out the window as the other connection rang in his ear.

After the fifth ring, someone picked up. "Hello?" a woman asked on the other end.

Sean straightened up. "Hi, is Rachel Keller available, please?"

"This is she.

_Here goes nothing. _ "Oh, hi, Ms. Keller. My name is Sean Lewis, I left you a voice message yesterday?"

"Oh, yes. How can I help you, Mr. Lewis?"

Sean had to chuckle at that one. "Actually, just call me Sean. I'm not old enough yet to go by 'Mr. Lewis'."

On the other end, Rachel laughed a little herself. "Okay, Sean. You had mentioned something about a story for your school paper?"

Sean hesitated a bit, and decided it was now or never. "It's about a girl who was killed and put down a well back in the 70s; you had helped the authorities find her body."

"Oh?" The humor had left Rachel's voice.

"Yes," Sean pressed on. "I need all the information you can give me about Samara Morgan."

There was a brief pause. Then, "I'm afraid I can't help you, Sean." Rachel said in a curt tone.

"Ms. Keller, I know about the videotape, and the myth that goes with it. I also know that's it's anything but a myth. I know you've been in contact with this whole thing. I'm not looking to extort you, or harass you, or anything, but I have to know more about Samara."

"I-I can't help you. Please leave me alone," Rachel's voice now sounded pained.

"Rachel, listen," Sean began, desperate to keep her on the line. "I know this must be hard, and I can imagine what you've been through--."

"What is it you think you know?" Rachel shouted back at him. "You can't possibly imagine what I've been through! Never in your lifetime!"

"Rachel, wait! Ms. Keller!"

But it was too late. Rachel had hung up.

"Damn," Sean whispered as he called her back. The phone rang a few times, then went to voice mail.

"Rachel? Ms. Keller, please pick up?"

No answer. Sean sighed, then kept talking.

"All right. At least hear me out. About two weeks ago, I was tricked into watching that video by a group of kids who were passing it around themselves looking for a thrill. Seven days later, Samara did come to kill me, but she failed. It's a long story, too long to get into over the phone. Samara was just unable to scare me to death like she does everyone else.

"This past Monday, my ten year old sister wound up watching the tape without realizing what it was, and before I found out, I had destroyed it. So she can't make a copy to save herself. Unless I can figure something else out, she'll be dead in a few days. I was hoping anything you knew could help me solve this in a different way.

"Ms. Keller, I'm desperate. Please think about this and call me back. A moment of your time is all I'm asking for, and you'll never hear from me again. Please?"

Sean waited a moment longer; no one picked up. He closed his eyes and hung up the phone.

Janet and Amy were watching him. "So now what do we do?" Amy asked quietly.

Sean could only look out the window. "I don't know," he finally admitted.

-----

The rest of the day went by like a blur. The three kids hung around the house just in case. Amy walked home later that afternoon so Sean could wait by the phone, but no phone call came. That night, thankfully, Janet had no dreams. Amy couldn't come by Saturday, the next day; Janet went about the day as best as she could, playing with some friends. She experienced nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that would suggest that her deadline, for lack of a better term, was fast approaching.

No one called. Sean found himself calling Rachel's number a couple of times, but he always got the answering machine, and hung up without leaving a message. Instead of fear, he felt anger. Instead of worry, he felt sadness.

Sunday brought more of the same. Amy came over later that afternoon, and she and Sean sat together on the porch as the sun started to go down.

"Sean," Amy said, "can I ask you something?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"What's it like being fearless?"

Sean paused as he mulled over how to answer that one. "It's something like being color blind, I'd imagine. Think of your emotions as light bulbs, and something that makes you feel those emotions as the things that turn them on. When something happens that should scare me, it's like trying to turn on a light with a blown fuse; there just isn't anything there. When Samara was coming out of the TV at Brian's, I was puzzled, I was confused, but that was it. Nothing else."

"That sure came in handy," said Amy.

Sean shrugged. "Yeah, but there's not even anything there with Janet. I'm sad as hell, and angry about what's going on, but I can't even be afraid for her. It's frustrating, especially when I know I should be."

The two sat in silence for a minute. Then, Amy turned to Sean. "What are you going to do about tomorrow?"

Sean sighed. "My dad's going to be home later; Janet's going to fake being sick to try and convince him to call her out from school tomorrow before he leaves for work; he's got another early shift. I'm going to try and get him to call me out too; tell him that I can stay home to take care of her."

"And if that doesn't work?"

"Then we just ditch school. I'd rather have Dad call us out, that way no truant officers will come by or anything. After that, whatever happens, happens. I'm not going to let it go down without a fight. Even if I have to let her take me instead."

The determination in his voice stunned Amy to silence; she could only take his hand. The two then just sat there, trying not to think about what lay ahead.

-----

The ruse worked; early the next morning, Mr. Lewis called both Janet and Sean out of school. It was a little after six o'clock that he went to check on Janet. While she was wide awake, she faked that she was half-asleep when he went to her bedside.

"Sean'll be here to take care of you," he said. "I'll make sure he knows to call me if an emergency comes up, but you'll be okay."

"Okay," she said, trying not to let the tears go in front of him. "I love you, Daddy."

Her dad gave her hand a soft squeeze. "Love you too, honey. Get some rest."

As soon as her bedroom door was shut, she cried softly.

-----

Sean was already downstairs in the kitchen, reading the paper when his dad came down.

"Thought you'd be taking advantage of the extra sleep," his dad said.

Sean shrugged. "I had a restless night, so I figured I'd just come down. I'll try to get some rest later."

"Sean," his dad said after a minute, "is everything okay?"

The question almost caught Sean off guard. "Why?" he asked.

"Well, these kids at your school that have gotten killed, you knew them, right?"

Sean shrugged. "Somewhat; I had classes with a couple of them, but that's it. I'm okay, though. Really."

"You'd tell me if anything was wrong?"

_Dad, please…._ "If I really needed your help, you know I would, but it's all cool."

Finally, his dad nodded. "Okay. I won't be back until much later tonight, maybe early tomorrow morning; it's one of those shifts. Make sure you take care of your sister, and call if you need anything, you hear?"

"Yessir," Sean answered, thinking, _I just hope I can find a way to explain all this._

His dad left, and Janet came down about an hour later.

"Have you got any ideas at all?" she asked him.

Sean paused a moment. A fragment of an idea had occurred to him in the middle of the night, but he wasn't sure how to build on it. "Something," he admitted. "Although I'm not sure what I'm going to do. When the time comes, I might just wing it."

They flipped between Good Morning America and the Today show, when the doorbell rang at 7:30. Sean went to the door and looked out one of its windows. When he saw who was standing there….

He opened the door. "Amy? What are you doing here?"

Amy stepped inside. "Cutting class. I told you I was with you in this until the end," she answered.

Sean couldn't help but give her a hug. "Thank you," he said.

-----

Time passed, but no one bothered to watch the clock. Eventually, Sean turned the TV off and the three spent the time in the dining room playing board games. When the phone rang, Amy and Janet jumped in their seats. Sean clenched his fists as he went into the kitchen to answer it, wondering what twisted experience Samara was going to spring on them now.

"Hello?" he answered firmly.

"Sean?" a woman's voice asked. "Is Sean Lewis there?"

"This is he," he replied, puzzled.

"Sean, it's Rachel Keller."

Immediately, Sean waved his free hand frantically at Amy and Janet, snapping his fingers to get their attention. "Ms. Keller! Hello!"

"Maybe you should just call me Rachel, Sean," Rachel said.

"Rachel," Sean said as Amy and Janet ran over. "Thank you for calling."

"I've been thinking over what you said in your last voice message. I know your time's short, but I think we need to talk. Do you have enough time to meet me somewhere?"

"Not to drive to Astoria," Sean answered.

"No, I drove back to Seattle early this morning," Rachel said. "I'm in a coffee shop called Brewer's Choice. Can you meet me here now?"

Sean turned to Amy. "Brewer's Choice, do you know where it is?"

Amy nodded, "Yeah, it's further in the city. I can show you."

Sean checked the kitchen wall clock; 9:00. "Yeah, I can get down there," he told Rachel. "I'm out the door right now."

"I take it you know what I look like?" she asked. "If you were able to track me down in the first place, I mean?"

"Yes, I saw your picture on the internet."

"Okay. I'll see you soon."

Sean hung up and turned to Janet; Amy was already getting her jacket. "Sis," he said, "are you okay here alone for a little while?"

"I should be," Janet answered. "There's still a couple of hours to go."

Sean nodded. "You remember that idea I had? I might be able to work it out better after this. We'll be back soon. I promise."

"Okay," Janet said as Sean kissed her on the forehead.

He turned to Amy. "Let's go."

-----

They did have time left, but not nearly enough as they thought. Had they been paying attention to the time, rather than let the day pass by, they would have realized that the kitchen clock had read nine o'clock for some time.

The clock's battery had died a while ago.

And the path of the Ring was about to come round to its endpoint sooner than any of them realized….

TO BE CONCLUDED…..


	4. Face to Face

Part 4 (of 4): Face to Face

-----

Sean pushed the speed limit as much as he dared as he and Amy drove into the city from their suburban neighborhood. It wasn't that the car couldn't handle it; the Celica was twenty years old but it could still ride, but he didn't want to risk getting flagged by a cop. They were short on time as it was.

"You think she's there?" asked Amy.

"She better be," Sean answered simply. "How much longer, timewise?"

"Depends on the traffic," Amy said. Traffic was moderate, but the trip still felt like it took longer than it should have. "It was 9:00 when we left, anyways. What was that idea you were telling Janet about?"

Sean shrugged. "I was thinking about how Samara comes out of the TV to kill you, she must go back inside when she's done. I'm wondering if she's the only one who can go through."

Amy stared at him. "Sean, what the hell are you thinking?"

"Nothing more than that, right now. I'm hoping Rachel can help me a little further."

Finally, they reached Brewer's choice. Sean held the door for Amy as they went inside, scanning the crowd.

"Sean," Amy said, pointing, "over there."

In a corner booth at the far end sat Rachel Keller. Sean's last hope to possibly save his sister. He checked the clock; 9:20.

_Trip wasn't as long as I thought,_ he thought to himself as they walked over.

Rachel looked up at them as they approached. "Sean?" she asked with a small smile.

Sean shook her hand. "Yes. Hello, Rachel. This is my friend, Amy Adams."

As Rachel shook Amy's hand, she motioned to the seat in front of her. "Have a seat, you two. Order a coffee or something when the waitress comes by. We won't get busted for loitering if we're paying customers."

"Thanks for coming," Sean said as they sat.

Someone came by to take their order. Rachel waited until after they had gotten their coffees. "I'm sorry I waited until the eleventh hour, but you have to understand that this is hard for me to face again," she said. "I have to know, though; you said you saw Samara?"

Sean nodded. "Seven days later, to the minute. She came out of her well, came out of the TV and tried to kill me, but…."

Rachel leaned forward. "You mentioned it was a long story; give me the short version."

Sean took a sip of his coffee. "There's a gene in the human makeup that makes the body feel fear; I was born without that gene. So there isn't anything or anyone that I can be afraid of, even if I wanted to be. It's like trying to divide by zero; impossible."

"Jesus," Rachel could only say. "And now your sister's next."

"Yes. I was hoping you could give me a little more insight into who Samara was."

Rachel shook her head. "The only way to save your sister is for her to copy the tape--."

"I have…some secret talents of my own," Sean interrupted. "You could call them psychic. I have one last gamble I could try, but I need to know who she really is first."

Rachel stared at Sean for a brief moment. Then she took a long sip of her coffee, and went ahead with her tale.

She had first heard about the tape after her niece and three of her friends all died suddenly; that was when the urban legend of the killer video really began to make its way around the school. Ever the investigative reporter, Rachel then went to the Shelter Mountain Inn, where her niece had watched it in the first place. She watched it herself, and received the same phone warning that Sean had. Taking the tape with her, she and Noah Clay, her ex-husband, began the task of deciphering the images, like trying to solve a puzzle that was leading them somewhere.

It eventually led them to the ranch of Anna and Richard Morgan, Samara's parents.

When she mentioned that it was a horse ranch, Sean had to interrupt her. "Horses?"

"Yes," Rachel answered. "For some reason, Samara drove the horses crazy; maybe it was her power. Either way, it eventually led the horses to commit suicide by drowning themselves. On the ferry to the island where the ranch is, I had a run in with a horse myself. He had broken out of his corral, jumped overboard and got diced by the ferry's engines."

"It was her mark," Sean said. "From watching the tape." He then told her about the carnival.

Rachel's eyes widened a little after hearing that. "And you weren't scared by that?" she asked.

Sean could only shrug. "Must have been a bad situation for Samara to live on a ranch if she had that kind of effect on horses."

"Even more so since her father made her sleep in the barn," Rachel said.

Sean almost dropped his cup at that.

"He did what?" Amy asked in disbelief.

As Rachel told them how Samara slept in a loft in the barn, with only a TV to keep her some type of company, Sean recalled Janet's first nightmare after she watched the video; how she was trapped in a barn loft with Samara after her. It was all starting to come together, now, but there was one thing still on his mind….

"There's one thing I don't understand," he said. "If Samara had died in a fire, like originally believed, how did she get in that well?"

"She didn't die in a fire," Rachel answered. "Her mother tried to suffocate her with a plastic bag and threw her down the well."

Sean and Amy froze, stunned by this revelation. Rachel went on. "That well was underneath the cabin where I first watched the tape. Noah and I were desperate to find out something as my seven days were almost up, so we were checking it out. I had fallen in, and Samara showed me everything through her eyes."

Amy was shocked into silence. For Sean, however, the last piece of the puzzle had fallen into place. "Her own mother…and father…," he said softly. "But she didn't die right away," he guessed at Rachel.

Rachel nodded. "She lived for a while."

"For seven days," Sean said.

"She even saw her mother close the well on her." Rachel went on. "That's what that ring is at the beginning of the video; it's her point of view of the closed lid."

"But if you took her body out," Amy finally said, "why does she still come out of the well to get you?"

"Her body's free," Sean answered, "it's her spirit is still there. Her rage."

Now Sean knew what he had to do, or try to do. And while he wasn't sure how he would actually get it done, he knew now how to try.

He checked the clock; it was almost 9:40. "We've got to go," he told Amy. "Now I know all I need."

As Amy got up, Sean took the check. "This one's on us," he said to Rachel. "I would offer to let you know how we make out, but it might be best to just let it end here. Instead, I'll just say thank you for everything."

"Good luck," Rachel said as the two kids went to the cashier. Afterward, it occurred to her that she never found out how Sean came in contact with the tape in the first place. What she didn't tell them was that her son had watched the video, and it was only after Noah died that she realized how to be free of the curse; copy the tape. So she made her son copy it, and passed it off to someone they knew would watch it.

Was that tape the one that Sean wound up watching? If so, it didn't matter; Sean said he had destroyed it without making a copy. So maybe now, it would be all over….

-----

"Do you know what to do now?" Amy asked as Sean stepped up to the counter to pay the bill.

He nodded. "I think so, or at least I know what to try." As they were leaving, he looked at the clock one more time. "It's only twenty of ten; we've still got time."

"Actually, son," the cashier said, "that clock's wrong."

Sean stopped so suddenly that Amy ran into him from behind. He did a slow burn toward the cashier.

"What do you mean the clock's wrong?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"Yesterday was Daylight Savings," the man said. "I forgot to set the clock ahead an hour, and still haven't, I guess. Sorry."

Sean felt like a lead weight had hit him in the gut; Amy was trying hard not to panic.

Janet had less than 20 minutes to live, if that. And the drive home was longer than that.

Sean grabbed Amy by the hand. "Come on!" he yelled.

-----

Back at her house, Janet was at the kitchen table drawing on an old sketch pad, trying to pass the time. Wondering when Sean would be back, she checked the clock, and froze.

The time still read 9:00.

Her heart jumped into her throat as she realized what was wrong; the clock's battery had died. She ran to the living room to check the VCR clock.

It was 10:45.

Janet sat in a chair and started crying.

"Sean, please hurry!" she said softly.

-----

Ignoring the speed limit and the other drivers' protests, Sean weaved the car back and forth in the travel lanes, trying to avoid an accident. He glanced at his watch for the first time since leaving the house, and hit the steering wheel in frustration. "How the hell could I be so frigging stupid?"

Next to him, Amy hung on for dear life. "Beat yourself up over it later," she said, "just get us back home."

Sean, of course, could have been going for a Sunday drive, but Amy was scared aplenty. Still, she refused to give in to the temptation to tell him to slow down. If they did, Janet was dead.

For a few moments, Sean believed they might actually make it, but soon he noticed that the traffic was gradually starting to slow down.

"Aw, don't even tell me…!" he said.

A minute later, they were at a standstill, reduced to creeping along.

"This isn't happening. This is not happening!" Sean shouted.

"Might be some type of accident further up," Amy said, straining to see up ahead. "Looks like it goes on for a long while."

Sean found himself looking to his left at the opposite lanes. Traffic was flowing freely, more so than their lanes originally were.

As he tightened his grip on the steering wheel, Amy followed his gaze.

"You're not thinking what I think you're thinking?" she asked, swallowing hard.

Sean waited for a car to pass in the opposite lane, then cut the wheel hard left and sped up the wrong side of the road. "Hang on!" he called out. "This is going to get nasty!"

It was all Amy could do not to cover her eyes. Sean's face, on the other hand, could have been set in stone as he weaved from right to left, avoiding the incoming cars. While he wasn't afraid, his adrenaline was surging, and he made a silent vow to himself:

_Not today, Samara. Over my dead body._

-----

The VCR clock slowly ticked closer to 11:00; there were now less than ten minutes to go. Janet knew she shouldn't stay in the house, but fear had her rooted to the spot. Sean had told her that Samara would be coming, but he didn't say how.

So she did the only thing she could think of doing, and made sure the doors and windows were locked, and sat back down in the living room to watch the clock, all the while praying that Sean would be home in time.

-----

"Oh, my God," Amy could only say. "Oh, my God!"

"Keep an eye on the right side," Sean told her as he swerved to avoid an oncoming SUV. "Let me know if you see the end of the jam."

The other drivers were hurling every four letter word in the book at them, but Sean ignored it. He did notice however that there were no police cruisers in sight.

_A crazy teenager speeding up the wrong side of the road_, he thought, _and never a cop when you need one._ He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

"Just don't get us killed, Keanu!" Amy yelled.

Sean glanced at her, "Keanu?" he asked. "Where the hell'd that come from?"

"Keanu Reeves. Speed? That movie ring a bell? Or do you prefer Steve McQueen?"

Sean shook his head. "Nah. French Connection. Gene Hackman's the shit."

After a minute, Amy pointed to the right hand lanes. "I think the jam ends a little further up," she said.

"Good," replied Sean. "I don't want to do this any more than I have to."

He swerved to the right to let a Bronco pass on his left, noticing that a dump truck was coming up in front of him. He got ready to move to the left, but the Bronco passed by to reveal a fuel tanker coming up right next to the dump truck.

They had nowhere to go.

Amy screamed as both trucks blared their horns. Sean pushed the gas pedal to the floor, watching the opposite lanes, trying to close the gap and get over before they hit the trucks in front of them. At the last possible second, he cut the wheel hard to the right and veered over to the right hand side. The dump truck driver, at the same time, hit his brakes.

There was a loud crack that echoed through the car as the driver's side mirror was taken off, but that was all. They had made it, with almost nothing but open road in front of them.

"Holy shit," Amy said weakly.

"Hang on," Sean said as he stomped the gas.

-----

It was two minutes to eleven. Water was starting to trickle down the side of the TV, and down the walls. Storm clouds began to gather outside, as if the spirit world was about to collide with the real world. Janet was almost hyperventilating now; fear's ice cold grip had her rooted to the floor of the living room.

Sean hadn't come. She was all alone.

At eleven o'clock, the TV turned itself on. Janet looked up to see the well on the screen.

"No," she cried. "Oh, please, no. Please!"

Then a hand crept out of the well, and a girl pulled herself out.

Janet began sobbing uncontrollably as Samara slowly began coming closer to the screen.

-----

The Toyota came to a screeching halt in front of the Lewis house. Sean and Amy bolted out of the car and ran up to the front door.

Amy got there first and began turning the door handle frantically, only to find it locked. "Sean, the keys!" she cried.

Sean reached for his pocket, but then realized that in his rush, he left the car running, with the house keys inside.

"Fuck the keys!" he shouted, and smashed the door's glass with his elbow, reached in and unlocked it.

Amy ran in first, with Sean a second behind. They hit the living room, and Amy almost stopped dead in her tracks.

The carpet was soaked with water, and on the TV screen was a girl, arms outstretched, starting to emerge from the screen. Janet sat on the floor crying hysterically.

Amy ran to her. "Janet, get back!" she yelled, grabbing Janet and pulling her away.

Sean didn't even slow down. He held his arms out in front of him, and bellowing, dove right at the screen. He felt himself collide with Samara, knocking her backwards, and then felt himself pass through the screen as well.

For a moment, he was completely disoriented. He looked around, seeing a grey, hazy wooded area, and the well not far away. He then realized where he was.

_I'm here_, he thought. _I'm in the video. Son of a bitch, I'm in her world._

Samara leapt to her feet, Sean did the same. Fists clenched, he charged at her. "I told you we had unfinished business!" he screamed.

They fell to the ground, trading blows; Samara trying to get away from Sean, who didn't dare let up; he wasn't sure if Janet was out of danger yet, but it was more than that. He knew what he wanted to accomplish, and what he had to do to get there. He had to get inside her head, and that meant wearing her down.

What he hadn't counted on was her clawing and kicking; fighting back with a ferocity or strength that he wasn't expecting. He had to remind himself that this wasn't a simple girl he was fighting.

Finally, she had him pinned to the well, and with her free hand, she grabbed a loose stone, and held it up to smash his head in. He grabbed her wrist, and struggled to hold on. That's when the images of the tape came crashing into his mind, but he was anticipating it and steeled himself against it. But it wouldn't be long before he succumbed to the onslaught.

"You have to let go, Samara," Sean said, his voice strained. "You have to let go of the hate. It's the only thing keeping you here."

A wail came from Samara; Sean wasn't sure if it was from pain or frustration, but he pressed on. "Your parents did this to you, Samara," he said, "but no one else did. Your spirit can be free if you'll only let it, but you have to let go! You have to let go of the hate!"

He wasn't sure if she spoke aloud or in his head, but there was no mistaking the pain, the sadness, the anguish in her reply; "_I DON'T KNOW HOW!"_

As her grip faltered, he knocked the stone away and straightened himself upright as he grabbed the sides of her head, moving aside her veil of hair and looking into her eyes. He felt his conscious self wrapping around hers in a mental grip, and focused. It was now or never.

_Then come and learn!_ he shouted from his mind, and he felt them both drift up and away, leaving all physical sense behind.

-----

Sean found himself surrounded by darkness; the same black void that he and Janet had found themselves in a few days before.

He wondered if he had done what he wanted to do, or if he had blown it at the last second. All he could hear was his pulse in his ears, and the sound of his breathing.

No, wait…there was someone else with him. Shallow breathing; it was someone young.

A voice said, "It's so dark here."

_Here goes nothing._ "Not the kind of darkness you're used to though, is it?" he replied.

"Where are we?" Samara asked.

"We aren't awake or dreaming, if that's what you mean," Sean answered. "We're somewhere in between."

Since he had taken them here, he wondered if….

He concentrated, and a soft light began to glow between them from an unknown source. There was no beam of light shining from afar, no ball of light floating between them. Nevertheless, they were each revealed to the other. Sean could see that Samara somehow looked the way she had before she was killed, instead of the shriveled corpse that came from the well. He thought she was actually a pretty girl, and felt a pang of sadness at the fate that had befallen her.

He forced himself to settle down. Now was not the time to blink.

For a moment, the two regarded each other; this girl who killed through fear, and this boy who could not be afraid.

Finally, Samara asked, "Why don't you fear?"

"It's the way I was born," Sean answered simply. "Why do you hate?"

Samara looked straight at him. "It's the way _I_ was born," she answered.

"No," Sean declared, anticipating her answer. "It's what you became, not how you were born. I know what your parents did to you. How your father kept you in the barn. How your mother…," his voice trailed off, leaving it unsaid.

"Then you know why I hate," she said.

Sean began to pace in a circle around her, never taking his eyes from hers. "I know why you hate them," he said, "but they're dead now. The rest of humanity had nothing to do with it. Not me, not Noah Clay, certainly not my sister. Your hate is what's keeping you prisoner."

"I don't understand," Samara said, frowning in puzzlement.

"Your body is no longer in that well," Sean explained. "Your spirit can go wherever you want it to, but you still exist in that well because you can't let go of your hate, your anger. I'd imagine its easier to do than you'd think. Just let yourself go where you want to."

Samara paused, looking down. Then, she looked back at him. "I don't know if I can," she said.

Sean stopped pacing, and sighed. "Then we have a problem. You can't kill me, and I don't know how to stop you. It's only a matter of time before I find out, but I'd imagine it'll be disastrous for us both in the end.

"You have a choice to make. You can either let it go and move on, or we can eventually play this out to its final insanity."

Sean began to back away, and the void began to lighten and dissolve as he let go of his mental grip on her and let himself slip away. "It's your choice, Samara," he said. "It's all up to you."

-----

As the light began to fade, Sean felt himself slowly regain consciousness. He could feel a rug underneath him. And wetness; the rug was saturated. He could also feel someone holding on to his hand. He opened his eyes to see it was Amy holding his hand; she and Janet were kneeling next to him.

He winked at Amy, and turned to Janet, smiling. "Didn't I promise you I'd come running if you needed me?" he asked his sister. She could only hug him in response.

As he sat up, Amy hugged him as well. "What happened?" she asked.

"How did I get back here, first?" Sean asked in return.

"What do you mean?" Amy replied. "You never went anywhere, physically at least. You knocked Samara back into the TV, hit the screen headfirst, then dropped right there. We knew you were still alive; you were breathing, but that was it."

Sean looked at the TV; the screen was dark. "It felt like I was passing into her world, from the tape. It must have been my consciousness." He then told them all that had happened.

He noticed the VCR clock read 3:30. He'd been out a while.

"Do you think it's over?" Janet asked anxiously.

"For you, yeah," Sean answered as he stood up. "I think if she comes back around, it'll be for me." He then regarded the rug. "I don't know how we're going to explain this to Dad."

Amy shrugged. "There was a bad storm that rolled in right behind us, just tell him it was some kind of leak in the wall."

Sean thought for a minute. It was a good an explanation as any. He turned to Amy. "Maybe we should get you home. Try to get ourselves back to normal."

Janet spoke up. "I'm coming with you this time."

Sean nodded. "Yeah, I was just about to say that. Let me just change first and we'll get rolling."

------

Sean walked Amy up her walkway to her door as Janet waited in the car. When they got there, she turned to him.

"So," she hesitated for a minute, "what happens next?"

Sean put his hands in his pockets. "I have no idea. It's all up to Samara now. I'd imagine I'll know what she decides one way or another."

Amy shook her head. "I know that, but I meant what happens with us?"

"With us?" Sean repeated.

"Yeah," she answered, blushing. "I know we've been through a lot, but I've got to know if things are going to go back to how they were, or if we can--."

Sean stepped forward, put an arm around her, and kissed her. She hugged him back.

After a moment, she broke the kiss and smiled at him. "I guess that answers my question. No hesitation at all, huh?"

Sean wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Being fearless has its perks."

They kissed one more time, then Sean stepped back toward his car. "I'll call you later," he said.

"Okay," she called after him. "Drive safe!"

Sean smiled and gave the okay sign as he got in his car. Janet waved as they drove off.

As he drove, Sean noticed Janet trying furiously not to laugh, and he knew exactly why; he knew she saw him and Amy.

Still, at a stop sign, he turned to her. "What?" he asked simply.

Janet giggled, holding her hands to her mouth.

Sean broke out laughing as he drove on. Life was good.

-----

Sean and Janet played dumb about the wet carpet, and their father had no choice but to accept that the storm did it somehow. The broken glass on the door was easier; a strong wind had kicked up as well.

The next day, the two siblings went back to school. Sean's school was still abuzz with the deaths of Tommy, Brian, and the others. Sean ignored all the talk, but couldn't help but wonder if it was truly over. As each day passed, nothing at all out of the ordinary occurred.

The next Monday, Sean came home from school to find a note that said his father had gotten called into work, and Janet was at a friend's house. He sat in the kitchen, drinking a juice and reading the newspaper.

That's when the TV turned itself on.

Sean slowly looked up as he heard a now familiar feedback whine in the living room. He walked in to see the well on the screen.

For a moment, he simply stood and stared at the screen. Then, he calmly went back to the kitchen, went to a drawer, and took out a large carving knife.

He returned to the living room and stood about six feet from the TV, the knife in hand. He took a deep breath, and let it out.

No fear.

"Come on, then," he beckoned.

Abruptly, the screen turned to white static, then faded to black. Sean frowned. What was this?

Then the Ring appeared, which Sean knew now to be the cover of the well. Slowly, the eclipse began to move to the right.

Sean held his breath as he realized what it was; the well cover opening.

Then, as the opening grew wider, it also grew closer, as if it were the point of view of someone climbing toward the light. As the light grew closer, it grew brighter, and Sean felt as if he were drifting away, toward who knows where.

Finally, the light filled his vision, and he could no longer see his living room. Only the polar opposite of the black void he was in a week ago. Slowly, the light began to fade, and Sean could take in his surroundings.

He was standing in a field, he was sure of that much, although he wasn't sure where he was. The sky was blue, and the sun was shining brightly. In front of him was a wooden fence leading into a wooded area, beyond that was an open meadow.

It looked like an ideal springtime setting; a place where a family would spend a Sunday picnic, or where a young couple would spend a quiet, intimate moment.

From behind him came a young voice. "Isn't it beautiful here?"

Sean spun around to see Samara standing nearby. She was wearing a white dress, hair combed back behind her, not in front of her face.

He nodded, "It is, but where exactly is here?"

She stepped closer to him. "I saw a picture of this in a magazine, it's somewhere in Vermont, I think. Have you ever been been there?"

Sean shook his head. "I've been to New Hampshire, once; that's next to Vermont, but no. Not there.

Samara looked at the meadow in front of them. "I remember wanting so badly to come to a place like this. I remember asking my parents so many times, before they put me in that hospital. When they took me out, we went to the Shelter Mountain, which looked something like this. But that was where…."

Her voice trailed off; Sean said nothing, he just watched the setting in front of him.

After a moment, he felt a small hand take his. "Why did my mommy kill me?"

The tone in her voice made him look down, and he saw that Samara's eyes were full of tears. It caught him off guard, and reminded him that this was, after all, just a little girl. She wasn't evil, not necessarily. She had been misunderstood and mistreated. What she did was simply out of anger and pain, both physical and mental.

Sean turned to her. "I don't know, Samara. I wish I did. But it's over now. You have to move on, even though it hurts. Is that why you brought me here?"

She nodded. "Yes. I wanted to show you that I thought about what you said, and that I am letting go. You're right; I can go wherever I want to, now. Now I am free."

Sean smiled a little. "You're going to be fine, Samara. In time, it'll get easier."

Samara smiled back, and began to walk away. After a moment, she turned back around. "What's your name?" she called out.

"Sean," he answered.

"Thank you, Sean," she said, then began to walk away again.

As she did, everything grew brighter, and when the light faded back to normal, Sean found himself standing in his living room again The TV was off, and the knife was still in his hand. Janet was in the doorway, watching him.

"Sean?" she asked warily. "Is everything okay?"

Sean looked around for a moment, then smiled at his sister. "Yeah," he said. "I think everything is really going to be okay."

"What happened?"

"Hold on," he said, putting the knife away and grabbing the phone and dialing.

"I'll explain everything in a bit, just--Amy? It's Sean. Get over here. You're not going to believe who just paid me a visit…."

-----

That night, Amy slept soundly, and Janet's sleep was free of dreams. They both were content that the nightmare that they had found themselves in was over.

For Sean, however, sleep was a long time coming. He had no doubt that Samara was truly at peace, but that wasn't what was bothering him.

All he could think about was what he had learned over a week ago. That Brian's wasn't the only circle with the cursed videotape; the carrier that held the manifestation of her pain and rage. That there were copies of it rapidly spreading throughout the country like a virus. Even though Samara was free, what had become of them? Were they simply wiped out, erased? Or did the imprint of her hate remain on them, like a stain that couldn't be cleaned?

What happened to those who watched them? What became of those people after seven days?

Sean didn't know, and he began to realize that he might never know.

He also, after a time, began to realize that…maybe he didn't _want_ to know.

END

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AFTERWORD:

While there's no documentation of anyone being born genetically fearless (that I could find), scientists have, in fact, recently isolated such a gene that causes the feeling of fear. They have even managed to remove this gene from laboratory mice, with remarkable results. One of several such articles that I found on this can be read the idea of entering someone else's dreams, or dreamscaping, may sound far-fetched, the idea is not originally mine. Dream control, however, can be done by those who know how.

The way I see it, if you're able to suspend your disbelief enough to accept the notion of, say, a psychically gifted child with a cursed videotape, my tale shouldn't be that hard to enjoy.

And I hope that you have enjoyed this, my first serious experiment with fan fiction. I find myself wondering how Sean would react if he were to come in contact with a similar video, and its creator, in the Land of the Rising Sun. Maybe, if given enough encouragement after this story, I'll be able to try and find out….


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